It said something about how familiar that was, amongst horses of Loki's acquaintance, that it actually took a good solid bite before he even noticed.
Then, well, it was time to pull his head away, and block her from his hair with his relatively-empty hand, pressing, to say No, Katie, I Don't Actually Need A Haircut, Thanks.
"And it would appear," he added wryly, "she even likes how I taste, although I think I'll take a pass on reciprocating. Am I meant to help with her grooming, now? Or is that more of a future thing, once I've had more of a chance to know my way around the stable? And – what do I owe you for the trial?" That last was rather more apologetic, really. Bringing up money in front of a horse, how shameful!