Kaidan's previous experience with horses consisted of occasionally seeing them out in fields near his grandparents' place as a child. Horses not being a feature of space stations or the military craft that transit between them, the experience had stayed at that level ever since. Now... well, a dunging fork and a muck bucket are tools that even one of the arrivals from elsewhere can be trusted with. He's been in camp long enough now to prove himself useful at other chores, but the quiet and the low light of the stables is something he's been taking advantage of to try and keep his migraines at bay.

The stall beside Piotr's mare is next on his list for mucking, and he settles in to work with a meditative air, motions still telegraphing as military in their efficiency as he hunts down the meadow muffins lurking among the straw. "I've heard it said that the best thing for the inside of a man is the outside of a horse," he ventures a bit of philosophy in a test to see how the commander of the guerilla forces will take it. "Never thought I'd have the chance to test that out, myself."