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You run tired fingers through the large equine’s mane. Erwin had gifted you with a new steed as part of an honored promise: its body was whiter than the last as though completely untouched by the impurities of the world. Watching the stallion graze while keeping its head within distance of your reaching fingers was a comfort you’d found you’d been needing more and more these days. A small noise escapes the back of your throat, and you slide your gaze from the horse to the sky. The sky is weeping but not quite crying, and that’s never been something that stopped you.

“C’mon, boy,” you murmur as you hoist yourself from where you lay on the grassy earth to your feet. The horse nickers lowly, abandoning the treat in favor of your wishes. You offer him a stroke of thanks then slide a foot into the stirrup, easily mounting so that you’re sitting sidesaddle.

You have a clear destination in mind, and your horse is no stranger to where that place is supposed to be.

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Shiganshina District is bustling with life despite the few in number who inhabit the streets. Adults beckon you to make a purchase while children pay no heed as they chase each other through the houses’ cavities. Because you’re not on duty, you’re dressed in a simple gown, and your hair is pulled back in a loose ponytail to keep the hair out of your face. This garners some curious glances – some more daring than others.

“What’s a pretty lady like yourself doing up high on a steed like that?” In his inebriation, Hannes fails to recognize you and approaches you, swaying and red in the face. If you hadn’t been as disgusted as you were with him in his current state, you would have happily traded his lack of care for all the troubles swirling in your mind.

As if sensing your discomfort, your horse shakes his head and steps to and fro as the drunken man draws closer and chuckles.

“Shifty little beast, eh? Tell yeh what,” he hiccups between a purr, “why don’t I show you a better way to get high?”

All men are the same. The thought arrives, unbidden, and you pull on the reins, not enough to hurt your horse, to prompt him to rise on his hind legs. Hannes falls on his rear as you’d intended to happen, and you’re already racing away as he continues calling after you, his screams echoing in your mind.

You curse yourself for crying again, but you really, truly cannot help it.

All men are the same.