Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-7262318-20190410021038/@comment-5543592-20190418003904

Smith went down the line horses. They all looked muscled and powerful, and Smith was an inexperienced rider. They'd sense his hesitation, fight him for control. He checked to see which were geldings, which were stallions, and which were mares. He got all the way to the end of the line, coming across, a tall sturdy mare with a dark coat the color of dying charcoal.

"You're an old girl." Smith said, seeing how once luxurious black coat was graying. It had the muscles of a workhorse that had been settled into the retirement of carrying lighter loads. Compared to a steel plow, Smith was diminutive. He held out a hand to the horse, and the elderly animal sniffed it, familiar with humans to the point of boredom. "I think you'll do," the demigod decided, and said after moment, "Melanie."