The noise of the horse's approach gives Detlef warning enough to put down the cat he'd been holding and step outside the fragile warmth of the rebuilt stables. Sure enough, there's the animal, scared, eyes wide, and completely alone.

"It's all right," Detlef says as he approaches, already at work. Technically he doesn't have to talk while using the Vice, but he prefers to. It helps get the animals focused as they start to still and relax, and it means that they're definitely not startled by his touch when he gets there. Which he does, gently stroking the horse's nose as the fear leaves it.

"You're safe," he says gently. "There you are." It settles down, stomping in the cold, and Detlef nods as if it can talk. "I know. It's freezing. It's the worst weather, really, and you've probably got the worst on top of that, because I'm guessing you're with the soldiers." It's an easy guess when he knows all the horses that live in the village. Detlef hasn't stopped rubbing the horse's nose, making sure that the calm has taken completely, focused entirely on the animal.