Dutch’s horse the count hated anyone besides Dutch. Bucking anyone who dare try to mount him off like a bull in a rodeo.

However, for some odd reason his horse never minded you. Letting you approach it and feed him. Even leaning into your hand when you gave it gentle pats on the nose.

Everyone else at the camp was perplexed at the fact that the count tolerated you. Dutch also equally as dumbfounded. He had thought up until now the count only tolerated him.