Ah, poor Eomer. He was a queer sort, but good with the horses, you see.
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That Firefoot, for one. Not two weeks ago I was painting one of her stables and installing new hinges on her doors, and I noticed her horses were all on edge, neighing and stomping an unusual fair bit.
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They sure were. I couldn't figure it out for the life of me; they've not been like that before or since - until last night, that is. That'd be the werewolves no doubt. It's the oddest thing, don't you think, that they should only be acting up right when you're around, SoN? I tend to go by a rule of thumb that animals have a better judgment of people than people do, so that ought to tell you something.
But then, you never know, with all these strange goings-on there may have been someone else prowling about the stable. Plenty of nooks to hide in, you know, and I can't be everywhere at once.