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"Eodwine, Lèof is racing. Come!" She took his hand in hers and began to tug him lightly through the crowd. "We should watch him."
"And him with a bad foot?" Eodwine said absently. His hand was sweaty. She had to notice. What did it matter? This would not do, being dragged around a horse fair by a twenty-something young filly, no matter how how elegant her gait. He rolled his eyes.
"Hold up there!" He tugged back and slowed Saeryn down. He pulled his hand gently from his and placed his hands on both her shoulders, standing behind her. "No lead!"
She looked up over her shoulder at him and gave him a quizzical look, then stuck her tongue out at him prettily, and set off at a good pace, snaking through the crowd until they were at leaning against the fence, watching the race.
It was already under way, and seemed to be on the middle lap. Eodwine tried to make out Léof, but could not.
"There!" Saeryn shouted, pointing. "Caught in the middle, lower than the others!"
"Of course. Æthel is the smaller horse." Eodwine watched Léof's progress, worrying his molers against each other. "He's a fool for being out there with his bad foot."
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