"Him I have only had for seven years, though I hope to find a colt or two among this year's crop to begin training properly." Asfaloth snuffles at Nerdanel's hair, then begins nudging at his master in hopes of treats.
"I have no objection, and I know he most certainly does not. You will win his heart entire." Glorfindel laughs, pushing his stallion's questing muzzle away. "I only hope this lad's successor is as even-tempered as he is - the one before him was an ill-mannered brute that had to be mercied down before he did some innocent harm."
Nerdanel produces the slices of tart apple, cooing and laughing as she feeds them to Asfaloth. She had not grown up around horses, as her father is a smith, and she married a smith, so horses? Not so much with her family. All her sons had owned one each, but they had cared for them and she had other things to worry about.
And horses were not among them.
"I hope you will teach Feaho to ride. He deserves to be around horses as his brothers were."
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"I wish I could ride. Maybe after Feaho is born. Can I give him the apple pieces I snatched from breakfast?" she asks, practically boucing.
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And horses were not among them.
"I hope you will teach Feaho to ride. He deserves to be around horses as his brothers were."
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