He caught the gold miza like a it was a holy artifact and tucked it into a pocket.
"I don't think Horse is up for interspecies romance," he agreed. He whickered at Horse, who stepped up to him, ready to follow him out of the stables. "We'll be at the gates."
His scimitar was strapped to the saddle, and there was some food left over in there that he would eat, keeping the miza for later spending. He should probably get himself a new bow, come to think of it. It would making catching meat again easier. His makeshift snares didn't work half the time.