"Well, he's dreadfully fond of them," was Loki's somewhat sardonic reply, but he was, at least, amused. "I should warn you that, polite or not, he's not neutered, any more than the horse I have an interest in in England is – and for much the same reason. He's purebred, and the school chum who passed him along to me warned me that he might come calling at some point to collect, as it were." His smile twisted ever more wry, there.
"Not that I've ever been particularly talented at collecting, on behalf of the stallion, and it's rather not as if Jo here has needed a freeze-drier experience. Nonetheless! So if, perhaps, we could start with the horses that like dogs particularly well?"
He gave her what he, Tyra, most of his friends and tutors at school (both schools, even, although not perhaps the local when he was a boy), and even his father had termed his Hopeful Look.