Chapter Thirty-six: Tread the Way, Jack
The couple kept moving at a decent pace, not too fast as they didn't want to tire out. Moreau decided their hiking was a good way to refresh Joy about sun-time, calculating the time of day by the sun's movements. He reminded her not to directly stare at the large star. He'd never forgive himself if those bright green orbs were ever harmed in any way.
The pair only stopped to eat, rest, freshen up, and for personal duties. To Moreau's relief, the only sighting of other living creatures was the passive deer and other non-threatening wildlife. The swarm of mutated, manic, wolfmen and those animalistic, quadrupedal werewolves laced with spears must've been eliminated by the smoldering blast in the Village. This put the small man's worries at ease. He was able to doze beside his precious person, wrapped in the blanket by their small campfire as it dwindled to fading embers and wispy smoke.
Joy kept her smartphone off to conserve power until the signal could be able to be reached. Moreau faintly recalled it took him roughly two days to travel from his former residence to the cabin. When he was his transmogrified, hated-self, his large amphibious girth paddled quite fast. However, Moreau couldn't always swim. Either because he was too busy needing to hunt for sustenance or the stream's width became too tight. Not to mention he had to waddle on land since his swimming stamina as a fish-man was mediocre.
But now, being human and with his motivating partner by his hip, the traveling was much more serene and much less chaotic.
As soon as the sun emerged from the horizon, the petite pair were up, scooping their cinnamon oatmeal from the pot and changing clothes at their respective trees. Moreau told Joy it would still take time on foot. It had already been three days since they left the cabin. Regardless, the young woman remained optimistic. Though the early spring weather had gotten a bit brisk in the mornings, it was not nearly as unbearable as it was during the snowstorm. Moreau was happy to squeeze himself into a thick, gray sweater and Joy resumed sporting her sunny yellow winter coat.
At the stream, Joy was sipping water from a ladle while her partner removed their dried clothes that had been hung on some low branches. Moreau breathed out the crisp air, returning them to the blanket. Excluding the bottom of his feet, the man enjoyed being… squeaky clean. Earlier, Joy showed him how to fold clothes. A pink tongue poked from his wide lips as he tucked in each piece. The square attire was a tad lopsided. Moreau would never be the best at this task as his partner, but it was much better than just leaving the clothes flopped on the ground as a nest for insects; the only creatures that were indifferent to his late, inhuman forms.
After finally managing to tie the blanket up, Moreau gave himself an approving nod and waltzed up to their natural compass. The woman was still sipping its cool hydration. When the corner of her vision caught her partner kneeling too, smacking his mouth, she smiled and handed him the ladle.
"Thank you, Joy."
"Mo is most welcome."
As he dipped the long utensil, Joy reminisced over his stories about the vast, unnatural lake called a reservoir. She mulled over the end of Moreau's old hometown… 'The Village'. She'd heard that word many times before; movies with time frames which were long before cars and mobile phones were around. Before Miranda, this place sounded like a peaceful, amiable establishment with friendly faces and helpful hands attending to their loving families and pacific chores. The rustic, charming setting even had a humongous castle which Moreau didn't seem too enthusiastic to talk about.
"Um, Mo? Da Village isn't a village anymore 'cause it all… explodeded, right?"
Moreau swallowed his mouthful of water, the cool air making his sigh visible.
"Yes… that's right."
"Can… Can Mo try ta guess what happened?"
The man shrugged while heavily shaking his head at the same time.
"All I know is there was a boom and lots and lots of smoke."
Joy patted her puckered lower lip. "Maybe lightning?" She shivered as she imagined a roaring and dark downpour. "A bad and scary storm can sometimes make stuff go all explodie."
"Uhh… no, it wasn't raining when it happened." Moreau lowered himself and the ladle for another drink. "But… I think it had something to do with the, the snappy blonde man. I think Miran… the Scary Fairy started a fight with him."
"Oh," drawled the young woman, recalling whom he was talking about. "Fighting over da dad's baby. …Rose, right?"
Moreau licked his wet lips and nodded.
"…Right."
Joy blinked at the moving, rippling water. Despite its fresh and soothing tinkling flow being appreciated by all her senses, the story remained uncomforting.
"Da Scary Fairy really was dat bad, huh?" She laid a hand on Moreau's back. "I'm sorry your home went all explodie."
Moreau straightened partway and rested on his knees.
"It, it doesn't matter anymore. I don't think any of it ever was my real home."
Joy canted her head. And with a smile, her partner patted below his hidden collarbone.
"Because Mo's heart belongs elsewhere."
Joy quickly fluttered her lush, auburn lashes.
"Um? Where?"
The man's happy gaze hinted at the little inquirer herself, and both deflected their rosy faces at no tree in particular.
Joy stroked some fallen strands behind her little ears.
"Oh… tee-hee… Yeah, Joy's heart is Mo's, too."
With a bashful grin, Moreau readied to bend for another sip. However, he halted when Joy swerved her head.
"Joy? What is it?"
The woman rose on her sneakers. "Did'ja hear dat?"
Wide-eyed, Moreau raked around himself. "Hear what-?"
A distant, high-pitched sound broke the quiet, woodsy ambiance.
"Dat!" Joy replied urgently.
"Ye-Yes!" Her partner hastily stood up. "I, I, I did. Joy has super-duper hearing!"
Joy beamed from the praise and Moreau squinted, placing a hand behind his small ear. His partner mirrored his action for it looked like something that would help decipher what this new noise was.
The long and pleading tone rang out once more. It didn't sound too far away, and the shrill became recognizable to Moreau, his face full of rare clarity.
"It, it, it… sounds like a horse!"
"A horsey?" Joy put a hand near her open mouth. "Really?"
"Really, really!"
The small man took his partner's hand, but he remained in place.
"Umm, what're we waiting for, Mo?"
"Waiting for other sounds besides the horse."
Moreau wanted to be absolute that there were no predators close by; particularly any bipedal ones… He was still erring on the side of caution... In spite of the prior consideration.
With palms locked together, the couple stood stock-still. The above birds and light wind brushing through the trees met their awaiting ears. Following another minute in anticipated silence, the reverberating squeal remade its presence, and they gasped, clenching each other's hand.
"Good, it's safe," breathed out Moreau. "We need to go see, alright?"
"Uh-huh. Alright, Mo!"
The pair hurriedly left the edge of the coursing water and gathered their things. Joy looked towards Moreau as he took the fireplace poker out of his drawstring burlap bag.
"Why're ya holding dat, Mo?"
Moreau lowered the poker.
"Uh, well… I know I said it was safe, but, but I'd like for us to stay careful."
The young woman bowed her head. This forest was quite large, and her mother had warned her that not all animals were friendly. Especially since she was now aware of the existence of werewolves.
Shaking off the last perturbing thought, Joy observed her partner holding the lengthy wrought iron rod and her insecurities ebbed away. Her parting lips revealed pearly whites.
"My Momo looks just like a brave knight wielding his sword."
Taken back, Moreau chuckled, rubbing his neck with a free hand.
"He-hee-hee… Thank you, Joy."
"Mo is most welcome."
The woman accepted his hand again and they walked in the indication of the reoccurring cries of the unseen, noisy equine. Joy paused, thus, did Moreau.
"What's wrong, Joy?"
"If we move away from da stream, won't we get losteded?"
Moreau lifted her held hand. "Joy's super-duper ears can listen for the water when we need to get back. And, and horses can find water, too."
"Alright… Hmm. Dat's very good ta know about horsies."
With a humble smile, the man urged his partner onward. Fortunately, the horse sounded like it was on their side of the stream. The air was chilly, so… treading water wasn't very ideal.
Another whinny bounced on the local bark of the evergreens and deciduous trees, causing some bluebirds to spatter color in the opaque sky. The vibrational trills were becoming more pronounced so the small beings knew they should be able to see the pleading animal soon.
Joy's mouth-line downturned. "I don't know a whole lot about horsies but dis one sounds really unhappy."
Her partner nodded, sharing her concerned countenance. In the past, horses ridden by Lycans were the exception of his past, cruel psyche. He never liked it when the upright beasts forced the horses to work and haul their hairy girth. And the frightened animals always emitted these ear-splitting squeals when their flanks were lashed without a miniscule of mercy.
But presently, this horse sounded distraught rather than completely terrified.
Still hand in hand, the couple moved along, sticking closely to the shrubs while avoiding any large roots that snaked out from the woods' undergrowth. As they stepped, the whinnies became clearer and crisper. Joy's sensitive auditory made her wince.
The small man turned his head. "Is Joy okay?"
"Y-Yeah… I didn't know a horsey could be so loud… But we gotta keep going ta help."
After a consoling rub of the back, the pair proceeded with anticipated silence. The only sounds from them were the light rustling of their bags, Joy's backpack, and their small feet treading on the patches of snow and forest foliage. And in a short amount of time, they froze.
Only about eight meters away, a brown equine was puffing in place, surrounded by mud that was thick and splotchy from the constant stomping of hooves.
"Awh, da horsey's stuck," Joy stated sadly. "Look."
The man's eyes followed to where she was indicating; the gelding's head, vainly yanking away.
"Joy's right. He is."
The horse's reigns had gotten tangled in a thorn bush and his mouth had thin wounds. It appeared that he was either trying to free himself or had desperately eaten the snaring shrub. All the grass and early greens and the last of the slushy ice around him had been cleared. The equine survivor must have escaped the Village before its destruction and had endured old man winter's coldhearted breaths suffocating the land in powdered frost.
Moreau exhaled with relief. If this horse was from the Village and his hairy slave-masters were alive, they would've either collected him… or simply devoured him. Moreover, the homo-lupines and their larger, four-footed, feral brethren were very territorial creatures. They seldom left Miranda's thralldom. It was probably why the silver-scalp man isolated himself at the cabin and why this poor, abused horse fled into the forest. They both knew they wouldn't be pursued.
So, indeed, the stubborn beasts all had to perish in the explosion. Nevertheless, the memories of them lingered, incenting the small man to keep the fireplace poker ready to prevent him from being untenable.
Moreau put an index finger to his mouth. "Shhh… Horses can become scared by very loud sounds and if we move too fast. Let's stay quiet and, and go over slowly."
The young woman nodded and both she and Moreau delicately put their gear aside, then carefully paced themselves.
But when the big, brown eyes spotted the two, approaching humans, the horse almost reared on his hind legs, but hindsight reminded him that he was unable to do so. He craned his head, and another long whinny cut through the atmosphere like the sharpest steak knife.
"Eep!" peeped Joy, her ears overtaken by the alarmed shrill.
Moreau held up his hands as he'd seen people trying to calm equines down. But this appeared to make the horse even more frantic, pulling and neighing at the entangled reins with all his worth.
"Maybe put your arms down!" suggested Joy, peeking an eye with her hands shielding her eardrums.
"All-All right…"
Moreau's limbs went to his sides, and the animal's pinned ears shot up. He gradually went quiet, much to the relief of his sighing partner. However, he kept his elongated neck low while nickering nervously.
It took a moment for the man to realize the horse's worried focus. Peering down at what occupied his right hand, he gasped. Of course! The fireplace poker! It must've resembled whatever the Lycans used to… encourage their animals to submit to their ongoing, warped wrath.
The woman watched as her partner slowly stooped and laid the poker by his feet. The horse neighed but it was short and not nearly as forceful.
Joy touched Moreau's shoulder. "Lemme talk ta him," she whispered. "I'll be super careful."
The man deeply exhaled through his short, bent nose and then nodded.
"Okay… I trust Joy."
Curved lips kissed his cheek. Normally, Moreau's face and ears would have flushed, but currently, he was too fixated on the lofty equine standing not too far from them. Yes, horses weren't predatory animals, but they still had powerful legs and were the mass of as many as several Lycans.
However, if anyone could make peace with a scared or intimidating creature, it was his heartmate.
Cautiously, Joy proceeded in steady steps. When she was about ten feet from the fidgeting horse, his nickers became louder and his long, tan tail swished like the blade of an industrial fan.
"It's alright, um, Mister Horse," cooed the woman. "My name's Joy. And over dare's my lovtie, Mo."
Moreau tentatively rotated his hand. He wasn't certain if the equine understood, but he still felt inclined to acknowledge himself.
"We wanna help ya," Joy continued as she resumed moving. "It's alright. Look at us. We're so small compared ta ya. We're just…"
Craning her neck, she slowly outstretched her arm to the attentive animal.
"…two wittle beans looking up at a great giant."
The horse became still. Twitching erect ears, he lowered his head, sniffing greatly at the young woman's knuckles. When he finished inspecting the small hand, Joy took two more steps and was now right in front of the tall herbivore, stroking the white blaze on his head, down to the velvety brown muzzle. The horse flinched a few times from the touch, but soon, nickered passively, seeming to soak in the first caring contact he had received before the Lycans stole him.
Joy's smile heightened. "You're so soft."
The horse's eyes were closed as the pinna of his ears were relaxed. Moreau smiled proudly at the small being in front of the composed animal that melted from her tenderness.
"My Joy really is so pure," he mentioned to the surrounding trees.
Still stroking the serene equine, Joy turned and waved inwardly. The small man carefully trudged his way to them. When the horse's ears flicked at the sound of bare feet snapping twigs, he opened his eyes, rearing his face.
"It's okay, dis is Mo, remember?" Joy reassured. She looked at her partner. "Please go ahead, Mo. Talk ta him."
Moreau was close enough to hear the soft request.
"Uhhh… Ye-yes, I'm, I'm Mo. And I th-think you're a, a, a very nice… horsey."
The horse watched him approach and the young woman offered a revealed palm.
"Please show him your hand with me."
With a silent gulp, Moreau elevated their interlocked fingers. The horse's nostrils began flaring. Just feeling and witnessing the big, misty puffs over his knuckles implied to Moreau the strength of this animal.
After a snort, the equine shook his head lightly and extended his big neck, causing the man to slant backward.
"Tee-hee," Joy giggled, feeling more comfortable to no longer whisper around her new friend. "Mister Horse wants Mo ta pet him."
"Uhhhhh… All right."
Licking light ruddy lips, Moreau allowed his wriggling fingertips to reach the top of the horse's narrow brow. And when the contented nickers started resounding again, Moreau grinned as his palm made contact as well.
"My… He's so…"
"Soft," finished Joy with a small, pleased giggle. "I know."
While Moreau gave the forlorn animal attention, Joy looked at the thorn bush on her left. The long reins were severely intertwined amid the prickly branches.
"I think we should try getting him away from dat, Mo."
"Yes… but, but how..?"
The couple hummed to themselves. Trying to remove the bridle might scare the trapped horse. They only had kitchen utensils, including a butter knife which wouldn't be very effective in cutting the dense leads or the sturdy branches.
"Maybe we can untie it somehow?" Joy suggested. She pulled out her cottony yellow mittens. "I wanna protect my fingers but I kinda need to see dem, too."
Moreau pouted while he pondered. He idly scanned around until he spotted their bags from where they left them.
"Oh! I, I know what to do," he excitedly murmured.
Joy beamed. "Really?"
"Really, really."
"Yay," Joy squeaked lightly, making the equine tilt his long face at such an odd sound.
"Please, wait, wait here with Mister Horse."
Joy bobbed her head, and her partner made his way back to their supplies. He untied the bed blanket and within two minutes, he found what he required. Beaming proudly, Moreau returned to the little and tall beings.
The woman matched his pleased expression. "Oh, da gloves I found for ya when I was packing all da clothes."
Moreau nodded zealously. "Yes, yes, these gloves will let me see my fingers and they are very thick, so, so my hands won't get pokeded."
"Dat's awesome, Mo. Umm… Sorry dat super long coat dat I found in da closet didn't fit. It woulda help ya not get poked."
"That's alright." Moreau gestured to himself. "This sweater will keep me safe."
"Okay… But please still be careful. Dose thorns look very pointy. Poor Mister Horse has wittle cuts on his lips."
"Okay, I will..."
The small man slipped the black attire over his hands and his grin expanded. With no longer having jagged claws and a webbed hand, he was finally able to wear gloves. Like a normal person.
After a few wiggling of suede-covered fingers, Moreau slowly sidestepped by the vast, durable shrub. His mouth-line flattened when he studied the reins up close. The sharp, green points were truly tangled, and some were even pierced through the leather straps. He was going to need to put his arms through all these prickly, woody limbs. Moreau was certainly glad that he decided to wear a turtleneck sweater.
When he held his hands near the reins, the horse snorted uneasily, past attempts to try to break free must've meant pain to him. Moreau needed to be super-duper careful. Definitely.
He glanced up at the awaiting horse. The whites of the animal's eyes were just as pronounced as his. The big, round pupils followed the man's hands but he neither stirred nor neighed.
"Mister Horse knows you're helping," remarked Joy, stroking the equine's straight tan mane.
"Emm-hmmm," droned the man as he guardedly inserted his long limbs through the tiny barbs.
Folding her hands to her bosom, Joy found herself repeatedly detaining her breath. Moreau let out annoyed, short grunts while tugging and trying to untwine. No wonder the horse couldn't have chewed his way to freedom, the stupid, stubborn, leathery lines might as well be anchor chains!
Still working on loosening the grip of the lengthy reins, the man's tongue made its debut. Joy refrained from letting out bubbly amusement and refocused on the horse, discerning him more closely.
After five minutes of grunting, guesstimating, unknotting, and the final hooked thorn was undone, Moreau watchfully withdrew his arms out of the bush. There were some snags in the sleeves, but thankfully, the sweater did its job of safeguarding his light olive skin.
"I got it!" cheered Moreau. "Oops!"
He quickly hushed, remembering not wanting to spook the herd animal. However, the horse appeared unfazed as he instinctually backed away from his thorny captor… towing the surprised, small man with him.
"Oh my goodness!" Joy exclaimed, covering her mouth.
Fortunately, the horse only took a few strides and stopped, causing Moreau to bump into the broad chest.
The young woman treaded up to them. "Are ya guys, alright?"
"Uhhh… Yes, we're all right." Moreau blinked back at the equine, dropping the tattered reins. "Huh-ha… ha. I, I never had a horse lead me."
The animal lowered his head and snuffled Moreau's big ridge of his brow, the cloudy snort blowing his brown hair. Then the horse bobbed his head and nickered, the contented sound reverberating from his long throat.
Swallowing, the man put out his hand and the horse gave it another sniff and then… nuzzled.
Joy gazed warmly. "Jack likes you."
"Huh?" Moreau turned his head. "Jack?"
Joy giggled and joined him in petting the tranquil equine.
"Uh-huh. 'Jack' kinda sounds better dan Mister Horse. Dont'cha think?"
The man smiled since his partner referred to the horse as a great giant and them as little beans.
"Jack and the Beanstalk," he chortled lightly. "You're right. Mister Horse looks like a Jack."
Moreau began fondling their new friend's mane. It truly was nice to not have animals be so terrified of him any longer.
The corners of Joy's lips tugged downwards. "Poor Jack. He has lots'a marks all over him. Whoever had him wasn't very nice ta him."
Moreau closed his sights, exhaling somberly.
"Jack was ridden by a Lycan."
The woman veered her view. "What? Ya mean ummm… not-so-nice puppy people ride horsies?"
Her partner frowned with a nod. "They would whip and scratch at the horses to… make them go faster."
He could see the dread within those widespread emeralds. He cupped her shoulder.
"But don't worry, none are left."
Joy rubbed his hand. "Dat's good… But…" Her eyes traced the cuts on the animal's hindquarters. "But will Jack turn inta a not-so-nice puppy-horsey at a full moon?"
Moreau understood the worry. Lycans were very similar to that old movie monster. He'd only watched that film once as it kept him sleepless for over a week. It was too bad that once the villagers became Lycans, they lost their humanity for good.
Moreau squeezed her shoulder. "No need to worry, lovtie. Only some peoples became not-so-nice puppies."
The woman let out a relieved respire. But then, she and her partner's attention went to the horse because he had tread past them.
"What's Jack doing, Mo? Doesn't he like us anymore?"
"Oh, he does," replied Moreau with a grin, gesturing to the reason for the horse's sudden shift of location. "He knows we have food."
"Wow, horsies are smart!" Joy's eyes glistened from a recent memory. "Oh, Mama Bear and me visited a safe place for rescued farm animals."
"A safe place?" Moreau scratched his square chin. "Does Joy mean a uhhh… sank… santaware…sanctuare…"
"Sanctuary?"
"Yes, sanctuary… Tricky word."
"Tee-hee, thank- No!"
"Huh?"
"Sorry, I mean no, Jack!"
The pair realized that Jack had taken it upon himself to chew the tasty-smelling burlap bag since his new herd mates were preoccupied with one another. They hastily yet gradually made their way to the impatient equine.
"It's alright, Jack," the young woman crooned, reaching an arm for him to prevent any holes in the sack. "We'll get'cha something yummy for your tummy…" She looked at Moreau. "I was gonna say back at da animal sanctuary, we gave da horsies some oats. Dey really like dem."
Moreau shot her a disappointed expression of highly raised inner brows and a very jutted frown.
"Awe, it's okay, Mo. We can have all da oatmeal we want at our beach house."
Moreau smiled dreamily. Our beach house…
Jack grunted while gently lipping and nudging at the small man's left forearm.
"He-hee-hee, okay, okay, Jack, I'll, I'll get some oats for you!"
On bent knees, Moreau pulled out a smaller sack and Joy unfastened its strings. As the nickering, eager equine nibbled away, waggling his tail happily, Moreau examined the long torso. Jack still sported a saddle that was weathered and was a bit loose and his ribs were slightly noticeable. He was lucky that his bridle did not have a bit that could have made grazing even harder. But Jack still looked strong enough for the task that Moreau wished to appoint him with.
After all, this horse survived the Village, Lycans, this foreboding forest, and to top it off, that brutal blizzard as well.
Joy viewed the man stepping closer to the equine, adjusting the girth of the saddle.
"What'cha doing, Mo?"
After a few more tugs, he faced her.
"Jack could take us to my old home much, much faster. Horses are great travelers."
Rosy lips pursed in thought. "I… I never rode a horsey before. But I like ta treat dem as friends, not cars."
Moreau beamed at the young woman's benevolence towards animals. Because of her warm teachings, he learned that all other lives should also be regarded with respect.
All the same, with all the rolled oats being consumed, this meant that there'd be fewer much-needed provisions for their journey. In fact, it was a journey from which this horse could also benefit.
"I, I don't think Jack would mind," Moreau added, stepping forth to stroke the dining horse. "He'd be happy to come with us. I don't think Jack li-likes living alone. …No-nobody should be alone…"
His last statement made his subconscious feel seen… And he was correct for Joy's mouthline was raised consolingly.
"I don't think so either, Momo. …But…"
She hummed flatly, holding a descended left hand. Moreau got closer and rubbed her coated arm.
"Please listen, lovtie… I… super-duper promise that once Jack helps us, we, we can help him become unlosteded, too."
Joy saw Jack nibbling at the small sack, and she lowered herself to tug at the opening, so his muzzle had better access. Although she was enjoying the campout, she would rather be unlosteded and back with Mama Bear much sooner. And their newfound friend required to eat and be safe just as much as they did.
With a relented yet stern little sigh, the woman's eyes met with her heartmate's.
"Alright. But only if Jack says it's alright… alright?"
Moreau grinned broadly. "Hmm-hmm… all right. All right?"
"Tee-hee-hee. Alright."
Moreau poured the remaining flat grain and stuffed the empty sack into his burlap one. While the horse finished, he collected the fireplace poker and returned it to his bag; making certain it was easily accessible among the cookware and supplies.
Once the man was satisfied, he slowly walked up to Jack's side again and gingerly put both bundles in front of the saddle, creating small clanks and ruffles. He stole a glimpse of the equine… He had neither reacted nor flinched a lean muscle.
Moreau let out a small huff to steel his nerves and put his foot in the stirrup. Then with a low grunt, the man straddled the big back, taking the long leads into his hands without thinking to do so. Again, Jack did not protest.
Moreau sat up as straight as he could while flittering short lashes, fully shocked at himself.
"Wow," gasped Joy, holding onto her backpack's straps while gazing up. "Has Mo ever sat on a horsey before?"
Moreau displayed a flat, toothy grin.
"I, I, I guess I have."
Excited, Joy's sneakers were ready to leave the ground, but the man quickly swayed his head. Joy's body slackened and she nodded in understanding.
"Right… umm… very loud sounds and fast movements can scare him. Mo really knows a lotta horsey stuff."
Beaming proudly once more, Moreau extended his hand and helped his petite partner get aboard, putting her foot into the little hanging metal as he'd done. Sitting behind him, she held onto his wide waist.
"Please, please… no tickles," Moreau begged mirthfully.
"Oh… I cross my heart."
Joy stole a downwards glance at the ground and she wished she hadn't.
"'Cause I don't wanna fall all da way down dare!"
After a few low chuckles, Moreau noticed that Jack had finished his breakfast. He and Joy looked on to see what the horse's next moves were. They didn't have to wait for very long because Jack bobbed his head while a front leg scuffed at the dirt. He let out a few nickering grunts. The equine sounds of keenness and impatience.
The small man peered over his shoulder. "Looks, looks like Jack's telling us it's alright for him to take us."
Joy beamed as well. "Yes… I can tell he really wants ta help us, too."
Once Moreau felt the little arms cling tighter, he clicked the reins and the gelding readily walked forward, content to not only have wholesome food in his belly but to have the company of nonaggressive beings who could provide him with care.
Moreau patted the sleek, soft neck below him. Following some tender encouragement, Jack was guided towards the stream for a very required and much-deserved drink before their crucial journey.