I mean, men who hold toddlers always look a pinch less threatening—right? In War’s case, maybe it’s a very small pinch. I reach out to him. “This is—” I pause. I still call my horseman by his given name—War—but we’ve bent the rules when interacting with other people. He’s been all sorts of names, none of which really fit him. “I’m her husband,” he says for me. “War.”
