“Wait, you were serious?” Bull stared in an odd mixture of horror and fascination.
The weird dead horse thing—Boss kept calling it a bog unicorn but it was definitely a weird dead horse thing—was saddled and shoed, ready to head out with them to the Western Approach.
And worse, Dorian was petting it, cooing gently to the weird dead horse thing.
“What a lovely girl,” he soothed as the Iron Bull approached. “Slow down, you’ll make her nervous,” Dorian hissed, and Iron Bull snorted quietly.
“I’ll frighten her? I’m not the one with a sword through my forehead,” he joked, but Dorian picked up on his discomfort immediately.
“Do you hear that, Acantha? The big scary reaver is frightened of you.” The mount shorted softly and nuzzled Dorian’s hand. “He’s awfully silly sometimes, I know.
” He gestured for Bull to come closer, pressing a carrot into his hand. “Go on, he’s got something for you," he muttered to the horse, and looked up at Iron Bull, eyes soft and smiling.
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