Board Thread:Roleplaying/@comment-12599067-20140128024529/@comment-11457306-20140202220948

Anwen spoke softly to the horses as she worked, cleaning their hooves, checking their legs, rubbing them down. Stroggvir stood with Olaf and watched, his arms crossed, leaning against one of the rails. He pulled a piece of straw from the bale next to him and stuck it in his mouth to chew on one end.

"She can work with them for hours," he told his big companion. "She even mixes potions for them.  She can rub a potion on their legs that can heal an injury or one on their chests to help them breath better." He frowned. "I had to put one down when we first got back to Skyrim--I think two days ago.  She cried like it was her baby she lost."