They come to a stop underneath the hanging boughs. He drops his foot on instinct, even as she steadies the bike, letting go of her. In the Horizon, it's difficult to tell how far they've gone—but it is certainly much further and faster than any horse could dream of.

He lifts the tinted glasses, as well. His smile is softer, but it's there. "You may have given my horse competition."

He's joking—he could never let go of Roach—but this? This is not at all a poor alternative. Nadine once told him there aren't much by way of horses in her world, and between cars and motorcycles, he can understand why. It's strange to think about too deeply, though. A world where horses are almost entirely replaced by shiny steel.

He swings off, running his fingers thoughtfully over the handlebars. It has been, he thinks, a very long time since he's found a reason to pick up a new skill. Something completely different from what he knows. "Do you charge for lessons?"