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A bit of stew for himself and some good mead, a bait of grain and some hay for Tumult then Connor mounted up for a night ride to Whiterun. The moons were up and visibility was good enough for  travel. It was just bravado but he spurred Tumult to a gallop through the town. Only a chicken objected. Connor wondered briefly if it was the same one that had led Stump on such a merry chase earlier today.

Still though once he approached the bridge he slowed to a walk. Showing off was one thing, prudence was another. Tumult was too good a horse to risk without good reason, and he was rather fond of his own neck.

Once over the bridge however, Tumult kept showing signs of wanting to run. Finally Connor let him have his head and he bolted ahead, running exuberantly. Connor held on... if not for dear life then close enough to it. His horse seemed to delight in this moonlight run, behaving almost like a colt in a pasture.

"So much for you having the greater amount of sense," Connor admonished Tumult.