Sweetfoot’s hooves thump methodically against the grass, the sound a comforting beat, one Dunk has known for years on the road with her during his time with Ser Arlan. His heart feels heavy in his chest. His last promise to Ser Arlan was that he'd take care of the horses, and here he is, with Arlan not even a moon cold in the ground, selling the palfrey mare for coin. She's more than a stead, she's a friend.

"I'll buy you back, girl. Won't be away from you for long. Promise," Dunk murmurs softly to Sweetfoot as he nears you, his face solemn, large hand patting her flank. He's soothing himself more than soothing her.

Sweetfoot nuzzles at his arm, soft, warm, trustful. Duncan swallows, voice low and rough, and strokes her mane one last time. “You'll... you'll take good care of her?” he murmurs to you, almost inaudible. “She's spoilt, mind. Likes apples and oats and... That's no matter, I'll be buyin' her back of you once I've won this tourney.” Dunk swallows, suddenly unsure of himself. "Just promise she'll be well looked after until I can buy her back."