Ivarr had been so friendly with her on the network, telling her about himself, making jokes with her. Maybe Winny had made a mistake in thinking they could be friends, with the way he was still just standing there staring at her like she was a two-headed horse. They didn't have to be friends, she told herself. They just had to work together. But she was a herd animal without her herd, her family members having been torn to shreds by shifter wolves, and she wanted to make a connection with the first horse-type person she'd met since her mother.
Eventually, he agreed, and, even though it wasn't an enthusiastic agreement, Winny smiled, wide and bright, nodding as he stepped away to guide River into her stall. She took the time to look around at the stalls, seeing muzzles, hearing little whinnies and the shifting of hoofed feet. She wanted to meet them, desperately, to see which ones she would form a bond with, but Ivarr was their protector and he'd already said that now was not the time. So she waited, and then followed along beside him as they walked through the Cirque, looking around at all the sights and sounds and the paper lanterns seemingly strung from everything.
Past the lagoon, they came upon the river, Winny slipping out of her flipflops on the grass before it turned into mud, stepping out into the mud and squishing it between her toes with a grin. "I like it." She told him, glancing over her shoulder at him. "I'm not a strong swimmer, so I won't go in. You'd probably have to pull me out, the currents look strong. But I can appreciate it from here." She rolled her shoulders back, shifting, letting herself sink a bit further into the mud, letting it squish over the tops of her feet, humming sympathetically as he complained. "Russia must have been good. Nice and cold!" She turned back to him, bending down to rummage through her bag before drawing out two red plastic cups, passing one over to him to hold while she cracked open the bottle of whiskey, pouring him a liberal amount before doing the same for herself. "I know it seems silly to drink fancy whiskey from plastic cups." She told him. "But it's slightly classier than drinking right from the bottle, I guess."