Fira folded her arms over her chest. “Human men like docile, doting, dainty wives.”
Ricker blinked. “You are not … large.”
“Compared to mares. But my stature is considered a misfortune. I am ungainly, cumbersome. You know, I have even been described as coltish.”
He snorted his way into a whinnying laugh and swooped her into his arms.
“Her Colt” | art by FoxOfTwilight