"Shhh." Cesare makes another shooing, soothing noise as he gets to his feet. He's still got his hand out, and when the horse doesn't look like it's going to rear, shy, or bite, he touches the soft-soft muzzle. It's something he hasn't felt in forever, that warm, snotty, breathy velvet skin around a horse's nostrils, and he laughs gently.
Oddly enough, the animal seems willing to suffer it, so he leans in and puts his face close to its neck. The smell is so familiar it makes him want to cry.