John appreciated Ben not burning his house down. Not that it had occurred to him that he would, but he wouldn't have been happy if he had. He went to the stables, and the back of them. They were warm, from all the trapped heat and warmth of the animals in them. John was at the back, in the corner box stall that he kept his horse in, feeding the animal a broken off bit of raw carrot and scratching under his mane. There was something fundamentally reassuring about the warmth, the life, and just the fact that he plain liked his god damn horse.
He absolutely heard Ben come in, but didn't stop what he was doing. "Something's got to give."