She kept stroking its neck, following the grain of its hair.
The white horse was well-behaved, initially continually kicking its hooves. Yet, with her soft touch, it stood perfectly still, its large, bronze bell-like eyes staring at her, seemingly enjoying her strokes.
Tara Summer smiled, "Liam Yancey, what's the horse's name? …"
The man walked to her side, his hands in his pockets, and glanced over the white horse. His eyes were filled with satisfaction: "Not bad, the coat is shiny, it's a good horse…"
He turned his head to the woman, saw her furrowed brows, and explained, "It's an Icelandic Akhal-Teke, known for its small stature and glossy hair."
"Oh, from as far as Iceland…" stroking the horse's snowy white mane, she nodded repeatedly, but, "Small stature? Is this what you call small?"
Tara Summer expressed doubt. With her heels making her slightly taller than average, she still couldn't reach the horse's ears. Is this still considered a small build?
