Horses, surely. [ This, said with a light shrug. ] Couldn't imagine it being anything else.

Unless there was a half-dreamin' woman, flailin' her limbs about every which way, but that seems highly unlikely, don't it?

[ He smiles, gives his right arm one last stretch, before deciding that it feels far better than it has in ages. The soreness will return soon enough, he knows; a slow tide that'll draw in as the day goes on, but he'll deal with it when it gets there. ]

I'll make do. [ A more earnest response to her original question. ] See how the day treats me.