Given
"Well, there goes my plans for a peaceful retirement," Havoc commented to the world in general.
"What's wrong?" Ed reached up to grab the letter in Havoc's hands.
"Dad's sick." He jerked the missive easily out of the teensy alchemist's reach. "They're not sure what he has, but they're pretty sure that he's going to die roundabout Yuletide. Mom and Emily want me to resign and go back to manage the farm."
"Farm?"
"My family runs a stud farm a few hours east of Central. We raise steeplechasers."
"What... like that one horse, Cinderblock?"
His face lit up. "I didn't know you watched races!"
"Me, Al, and Winry went out while I was there and we saw a steeplechase. Kind of cool... it'd be fun to be a jockey for one of those races..."
"You'd have to lighten up the automail, though... of course, that could count for a handicap..."
Ed grinned as Jean flitted away to a world of his own. So Ed tapped him on the arm. "How do you know about Cinderblock?"
"Oh. That. My family raised him from a colt. His father was one of our best stallions." Changing the subject, he said, "I wonder how long it's going to take me to resign."
