Ad aspera

-- Well, well, still alive. Not everyone can handle the workload, especially on the first day. -- The old stablehand finally stops his frantic movements as the workday ends. He doesn't even seem tired. -- You want some?
He offered a goblet to Dunkaniël.

The plan was to keep an eye on who arrives, what they talk about, and maybe something interesting would come to light. The stablehand is always present when travelers arrive at the tavern... By staying in plain sight, he remains unnoticed, as no one pays attention to him.
Life made adjustments; the unfamiliar work didn't allow him to really listen, it was hard and far from as mindless as he would have liked. Although, maybe he did notice something, who knows?
Be that as it may, the old stablehand earned from Knudd, if not respect, then at least a sense of solidarity -- as much as was possible for an imperfect, short-eared creature who was so good at his job. And taking care of horses wasn't one of those professions that Dunkaniël could call "barbaric" or "dirty," despite its outward nature. A horse is a noble animal... And that feeling was in his blood.

In response to the old man's gesture (though it depended on who you asked), Knudd took a good sip and returned the goblet, nodding respectfully.