Jack breathes, in. Breathes out. Steels himself, and then walks into the stables. This is... kind of a therapeutic exercise for him, in a way — the last time he was up close and personal with a horse, things got... bad. Like, super bad. Like, mind-meld drowning in a river bad.

He's not, like, super familiar with horses. He didn't seek them out recreationally, the number of times he's ridden them can probably be counted on two hands, but he is from the rural south. It's part of the culture. He's grown up near people who have horses, he's been plopped onto them from time to time as a youth for the novelty at fairs and stuff. They're fine.

And this is fine.

This time, when he reaches out and places his hand on the thick neck of the horse next to Sansa — his face screwed up into something braced for misery and his muscles tense — his hand definitely isn't going to be permanently melded to the hide of the creature. It definitely isn't going to start dragging him away to the closest body of water to drown him, probably.

It's only after he quickly rips his hand away and realizes that it came off with not even a hint of resistance that he exhales a long, loud sigh of relief and allows himself to actually pet the wild creature.

He probably looks absolutely fucking insane this entire time.