Bragi took a step back and stood gracefully with his hands behind his back as he watched Mr Sterling's deft handiwork. He was impressed (though not surprised), but had too many feelings on the go to register any as dominant. Except when the task was done, and it was done shortly, he was most certainly relieved. For Bragi had long outstayed his welcome, no matter the kind tolerances of his gracious, inadvertent hosts. For their sakes, he would take tremendous care not to see them again.

"Thank you very much, sir", he breathed gratefully to the horse master. "Sir", he added with a similar level of gratitude to the bearded "Ari", and then took Galahad's reins and headed out of the stable. He didn't look back. When he returned to the main track, with night now long since fallen, Bragi mounted swiftly and they headed home at a hasty pace.

Foolishly — given his clumsiness this evening — Bragi closed his eyes tight, as if wishing he could forget everything that had happened. But then he opened his eyes suddenly. For no, he did not want to forget this evening at all. Yes his behaviour had been shameful and horrifying, and he'd instilled fear in two very nice gentlemen, but he had also learned something very special.

In among the torment, his young life had changed forever.

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