Horse riding makes him feel good. For a while, he can forget than he's nothing more than a prisoner who's going to be locked up between four walls as soon as his work will be done. He still hardly understands why Els—the Queen trusts him enough to allow him to go out of the village with the horses he's supposed to take out for a walk, alone. No guards, no chains.
He could run away, escape with one of the horses of the stables and meet his freedom again, live outside like he's always wanted, breathtaking landscapes spreading before his eyes so that he won't regret anything that's happened. Splendid sunsets as the ones he's known in the the Southern Isles , and what he saw in Arendelle. And the one he's actually watching on the North Mountain, and he's wondering which are better between those back in his kingdom, and those here. Sleeping under the starry sky just like he used to as a child would be wonderful.
Free again.
But it feels wrong, in some way. He is given a second chance, a chance to make it through without being harmed, a chance so many has longed for and never got. He isn't going to throw it all away. Although he doesn't really knows what's retaining him from acting so. The poor souls of other prisoners isn't the reason why he would accept to locked himself away from the world like a lion in a cage.
As the sun starts to bury deeper and deeper into the horizon line, the sky loses his colours and Hans brings the horse to a slow pace.
"Calm down, Sunflower, I'd rather stay on your back than end up the nose buried under that thick layer of snow. Not that I don't like snow, I enjoy it very much, but not right now." he declares nervously, realizing soon after how stupid being embarrassed around a horse is.
He turns around on the saddle, laying a hand on the mare's croup to support himself and takes a few seconds to consider the distance they've covered since they began to gallop. His eyes widen as they travel up and down the hoof marks decorating the immaculate snow. He repositions himself on the saddle, the reins in his hands, glancing at the horse's head.
"Whoa" is all he can mutter at first, "you're some of a fast runner, aren't you !" he compliments, running a hand through that mess of his thick and dirty auburn hair that covers his forehead and eyes, and he pushes it backward.
He shall think to ask the guards to freshen up, still, a prisoner can take care of himself not to look and smell like that reindeer-man who, he thinks, could take a bath more often because, contrary to him, he has got his personal bathroom in the castle.
Sunflower neighs in agreement. Hans likes that sound, He finds it cute, the only way they have to communicate. Still, he can't prevent himself to wonder if it's about their travel, or the smelling of this Christopher, if he recalls well.
"Yeah, you understand me, don't you ?" he asks in a low voice while patting the mare's neckline.
A slight move of her ears indicates that she's heard him, followed with a nod of her head. It's quite funny to see how it moves from up to down while snorting.
Horses are better than people.
They've always been.
They've been his only friends when his human sibling neglected him. He felt much more close to them than to his family. He used to wonder if he was born somewhere else in the forest, between stallions and mares, and if he was as wild as they were. But he understood when he grew up that he made no sense. He was indeed, as painful as it was for him to admit it, born in a family that doesn't love him.
His heart was always with the one he considered as his true brother, Sitron. It was for him the best thing he had ever got in his whole life. He was merely a foal, whom Hans' parents had found lost in the forest and had brought back to their thirteenth son. It was a good opportunity for them not to waste money to purchase another Fjord horse for him. Bit it didn't matter for him. It was his horse and as they grew up, they became more and more attached to one another and never left each other's side. Whenever he would appear through the main doors of the castle, the foal was there and followed him wherever he would take them, and it continued like that as the years passed by. Sometimes, it was the horse who decided where to go, and he would always go back to the stable when it was time for dinner. Hans had even tried to bring Sitron to his chambers once, but with twelve older brothers who despised him, he didn't stand a chance not to be seen, and he got severely punished.
Now where is he ? He thought he would still be in the stables here, but Sitron remains nowhere to be found, like he has escaped from this kingdom he used to call cursed, when he first got back here. Has his father brought it back to the Southern Isles ? He can give his whole world to find him. He has never given up on him, so he will do the same. When the time will be right, he'll have to go look for him.
Nevertheless, right now, he must admit that riding Her Majesty's mare is much appreciated from him. Just like she is, Sunflower is delicate and regal, she holds the posture of a true royal horse. No doubt that she's Elsa's horse. Although she runs very fast - but not as fast as Sitron, of course - she never rushes the ride and keeps a constant speed. It's a pleasure to mount her.
"Wanna go back home, Sunflower ?" he says as the castle comes in sight. "Ya !" he yells and brings he to gallop again.
It feels like flying. Freely. He's free from any links that will restrict his wrists and his ankles, minutes later.
And as they flee full speed to the stables, he think of the horse's name. Sunflower. It sounds kinda weird for some Ice Queen's horse. Snowflake, or Frost would've be more accurate. Every name would be more accurate but Sunflower. He'l have to remember to question her about it when they'll meet again. But that is another thing to think of, when she'll come to visit him. That he doesn't know, she's too unpredictable, he thinks about that as he dismounts the mare and starts to pull off the saddle and the bridle.
That he'll never know.