"He's gonna kill ya," Daryl's rough voice sighed with genuine regret as he continued to help Glenn brush the horse's mane. The hair was still wet and the horse's body was still damp. 'From the early morning rain' Glenn had insisted when he walked up to the creature. It wasn't skittish like the few other horses they'd come across in the last year or so. It was one Glenn thought they might be able to ride back to the prison. Keep with the others they'd found.

"He's not going to kill me," Glenn retorted, sighing himself. Though his sigh was one of exasperation.

"Just you watch," Daryl said, "Soon's you climb on his back you'll be stuck like glue and he'll take you into the nearest river and drown you. Might not even wait 'til you're drowned before he starts eating ya."

Glenn stopped his brushing to give Daryl a look.

Daryl gave him a pointed one back, "It's true. If'n you don't want it to happen, I should be the one to ride him."

"You just want to ride him," Glenn shot back and returned to brushing out the horse's hair. He did have to admit (silently, to himself) that the horse somehow hadn't dried out even after a good ten minutes of brushing.

"Not really. It's awkward being on one of 'em," he objected. "Gotta know what you're doing. Appeal to their sensibilities."

Glenn took a step back and crossed his arms, "Okay, then. Spill. What are their sensibilities?"

Daryl's hands stilled, though he didn't break contact with the horse the way Glenn had. Its head swiveled around like it was interested in hearing the answer, too. Glenn pushed that thought to the side and settled on the more likely one of the stallion trying to figure out where the second set of hands had gotten off to.

"Well, they're men," Daryl started slowly, fingers twisting into the damp mane as he started to braid the hair idly. "All o'them. Shape shifters, too. Some stories paint 'em as taking the form of a woman, but those ain't true. They're horses or human. Always men. Handsome folks that look a little too waterlogged for their own good, but still decent enough around the edges. Sometimes they're older and uglier, but only to make themselves seem weaker than they are."

Daryl turned his head to look the horse in the eye and smile sadly as it whuffled at him and nudged his shoulder. He took one hand out of the mane and started petting its nose, "Nah, not you. You ain't trying to look weak are you, sunshine? You too pretty for that play and you know it."

He snorted and brought his eyes back to Glenn, "What they do is get themselves out a ways from a river. Not too far. But enough that it ain't too obvious. Then they let themselves get approached the way we did. Lull their victims into a false sense of security. Let themselves get mounted. Then once their prey is on their back, the wet turns to sticky and nothing can pull itself off. Only way to get free is to hope you got a hand that can amputate the rest of you. Then they run as fast as the wind back to the river they call home and they take themselves and their victims under the water," Daryl snapped his teeth at Glenn. "And they eat ya."

Glenn eyed Daryl for a long, silent moment before snorting and calling Daryl's bluff, "So why's it safe for you to ride him and not me?"

Daryl grinned and leaned in real close. He waited to speak until Glenn was shifting on his feet uncomfortably. Then he whispered, "Cause I'm a kelpie, too."

There was silence as Glenn stared wide-eyed, broken only when the horse they'd been petting reared itself up and forced the two of them to stumble back. It whinnied loudly, almost like it was giving a frustrated scream, and bolted off into the woods.

The groan of walkers in the distance filled the quiet that came after and Glenn started laughing. For a split second he'd actually believed Daryl. That the horse had bolted because it's secret was out. The timing was just too perfect and Daryl was just too good at those stories.

Daryl hurried to his feet and kicked Glenn's shin lightly, "Enough with the laughing we gotta go."

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," Glenn chuckled, not at all worried about the walkers. "How about you invite them to ride you and you can drown them?"

Daryl rolled his eyes, smirking despite himself, "They ain't smart enough to climb on. They'd just turn me into a horse shaped buffet."