"It was going to be a rearing horse," Allan said, scratching a bit of clay out of his eyebrow and flicking it onto the pile. "But it decided it wanted to be a pile of shit instead. No problem. I know where I went wrong. Just let me get some of it off me and I'll be right with you. There's some photos on the table. You can have a look through those if you like."
It was a messy table. But there was a pile of Polaroids he had taken at the stables and a couple of small clay horse models formed around copper wire and two more - one male and one female - apparently ignoring each other.