Iain’s face is aghast. He gestures at Numbles. ‘Are you having me on? Harry. That’s a plough-horse. Look at him. He misses the plough. Don’t do this to either of us.’ Numbles looks up, hay falling out of his mouth, and grunts like he’s been insulted. Iain flails angrily. ‘And he only has one eye.’ Numbles retaliates by butting his head into Iain’s chest, smearing his shirt and neck with copious amounts of green, hay-filled saliva.
Best horse
