Your hands fumble with the knot of leather holding the stallion to the post. It's been drawn so tight you almost can't undo it, obviously from the poor horse yanking at the tether in an attempt to get free.
As you work at the knot, the horse butts your shoulder nervously, not used to your presence there. The feel of that velvety-soft muzzle sliding across your sweaty shoulder is almost enough to make you fall to your knees and slide your hand into your shorts, but you don't. This magnificent creature must be dying of thirst, after all. You have to get him water.
Finally yanking the knot open, you look around the paddock in search of a pump. There isn't one, and since the farm's abandoned, it probably wouldn't have worked anyway. With a tug on the stallion's tether, you lead him towards the barn, hoping to find a trough you can fill from your water bottle. He follows you eagerly, silken nose nudging your shoulder affectionately.
This massive brute is already in love with you. He'd do anything you asked him to.
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