Despite his confusion, he seems willing enough to trust her. To follow where she leads. Unexpected, but something of a blessing. While she is not opposed to tricking him into doing her bidding, she suspects he would be much more difficult about such things than certain other horses might be. And, frankly, he would likely be difficult enough once he actually comes to his senses. She certainly would not wish to compound the problem. And what is it they say about looking a gift horse in the mouth? Right, don't do it.
It's advice she is quite happy to follow.
And so, somehow, when she commands he walk, he walks. Perhaps he is leaning heavily against her. Perhaps their progress is slow, almost painful, but they are going in the right direction, and he is accompanying her willingly. A feat in and of itself. She might be sticky with his blood, the press of his weight and ridges of bone biting into her skin, but if this is the price she must pay, she would gladly do so.
Besides, she could hold this over his head for the rest of his days. And that is definitely worth such a price.
She does her best to ignore the way he presses his muzzle against her neck, the fall of her dark mane shrouding his features (is he… sniffing her? Oh hell. Granted, she probably does smell better than whatever hole Violence had been keeping him in, but still...). Does her best to ignore the warmth, the familiarity of that gesture. He doesn't make it easy, not with the way he keeps murmuring nonsense into her skin, but she has sheer stubbornness on her side. Whatever might have once passed between them, she would not be made a fool. And certainly not by him.
Slowly, slowly, he seems to regain some of his faculties. Though she still supports him with silent stoicism, he has relieved some of his weight from her. He has even progressed so far as to finally be able to recall her name. The sound of it upon his lips, softly, almost absently spoken, draws her attention. Her pale gaze shifts to him only to find him with a smile upon his lips, something almost resembling amusement in his expression. Unfortunately she could make no claim to any ability to read minds, and his odd reaction brings a faint frown to her lips.
Shaking it off, she quips a faintly sarcastic “Congratulations, you've remembered my name,” before turning her attention back to the task at hand.
Only to be interrupted once more by his abrupt demand for water. Naturally. With a soft sigh, she glances briefly back at him before shifting course to make way for the nearest water source (a direction easily enough discerned with her particular abilities). “Goddamn,” she grumbles half-heartedly, though the words are softer (kinder) than she had intended. “You're needier than a child.”
