Kieran was brushing the Black Arabian horse that was hitched up near the camp. He hummed softly as he continued to pamper the black beauty. It was a larger horse, used for harder work like pulling equipment and such. Kieran pulled out carrots and fed them to the horse. He was good with the horses that belonged to the Van der Linde gang members. Except for The Count but that white horse didn't like much of anybody. Kieran wiped the sweat that collected on his forehead.