"So, Branwen's got a- a flaxen roan coat," Kieran said with surprisingly minimal stammering as he patted his steed's neck. You had asked him to tell you about the horses, so that was what he was doing.

"Boaz, over there," he pointed to Javier's horse who was rather peacefully eating some grass. "He's a grey overo, uh, breed's an American paint. Then Maggie there's a mustang — palomino, one of them lighter coated ones."

Kieran seemed much more at ease when talking about horses, less like that nervous man you'd come to recognise.