He wasn’t sure how much better care they really gave Sleipnir, but Hermod would bet that they had a bigger stable. Sleipnir had plenty of other equine company. Including some of the winged horses the Valkyries used. The eight-legged steed wasn’t the only unusual horse. Hermod liked to think that that made it easier for his horsy friend. He thought it was probably hard for any person or animal when they looked different from the others of its kind.
“I think it’s been good for all of us,” he said, getting Sleipnir’s oats and barley ready. “I mean, this is something that I get to do, not Baldr or Hod. It’s something that I love to do and they don’t. So I get that and Sleip gets the best care I can give him.” Hermod loved his brothers, but whatever he did, they always seem to have done it first. And better. But with Sleipnir and the other horses, there Hermod could really outshine them both. Hod had come out a few times to talk while Hermod tended the animals, but Baldr never did. He said the stables smelled too much. What did he expect from horses? Roses?
The messenger grinned when Sleipnir moved and bumped him gently with his hindquarters. The horse rarely knocked him over any more. Usually only if he was agitated or really wanted to play. In those cases Hermod often found himself knocked back onto his own hindquarters. But the gentle nudge was just a show of affection. He pushed the horse back with his shoulder.
“You should see him run,” he said, giving his attention back to their visitor. “At full speed, there is nothing that can beat him. I bet Sleipnir could go anywhere if he put his mind to it.”