The stallion moves immediately as Cerosi marches toward him, his movements peaceable and evasive. She juts her head between Håkon and the stranger, shoving the boy roughly back, but there she halts; the pale stallion has already put plenty of space between himself and the child, and he watches her with what she interprets as curiosity rather than offense.

He seems to have been ready for her, which the steel-grey mare takes to be a good sign.

She lifts her head, ears rising tentatively from her sterling mane. She does not apologize for charging the stranger, but her aggression immediately abates once she realizes the pale stallion is not a threat. She studies him for a moment longer before some of the tension leaves her and she relaxes, blowing a soft snort out of her silvery grey nostrils.

Turning, she inspects Håkon, who is back on his feet after a bit of a tumble. He shakes himself off, and Cerosi plucks a few twigs from his fluffy mane. The young boy is prickly at first, angry with his mother for bowling him over (for no reason, he thinks) but he is soon distracted by a grasshopper in the tall Prairie grass. Cerosi lets him stalk after it before she turns back to the stranger.

“Your neighbors have a bear,” she informs him, tossing her head in the direction of the Forest. “Are you the stallion of this place?”