''Huff, I hate goodbyes. When it's with friends, at least.'' Deslan hopped off Alfrid, took him by the reins and dragged him off the mountain pass. He unhooked his saddle, which slid to the ground carrying off the reins and stirrups.
''Look, Alfrid, we've been through a lot... kind of. You were the fastest horse I've ever had the pleasure to ride on, like, seriously.'' Deslan whistled. ''You got us to the Anduin in a day or so. That's pure violation of the laws of physics, which haven't been written down this up north, yet.'' Deslan caressed Alfrid one last time, then he hit him on the back. ''Now run, Kuntsworth! Ride and make dozens of small Alfrids with dozens more horse lasses!''
Deslan would watch his only true friend ride off into the horizon (even more of a friend than Dimitri, but it didn't take much for that: heck, even the Dimitri in Isengard is better company than that Dimitri). He sighed, turned around and braved the mountain pass, his right arm opening to reveal a very useful tool for these mountains.
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