"Pretty good," he says, amiable as ever. Helga snorts as he hits a bad tangle, and he lowers his voice, soothing: "Yeah, I know, you got a rough patch there, we're gonna go slow and get it smoothed out, okay?"

He rubs the bridge of the horse's nose as he glances Edgar's way. "How about you? -- Bandit, no."

"Prrr?" says Bandit, all innocence, from where she's trying to stick a paw in one of Edgar's pockets.