“Ooh! Luna, look. That guy didn’t run.” I happily trotted – or was it cantered? I didn’t know horse terminology – over to a food stall. “Sup, buddy, what are you selling? Looks good. Hey, Luna, you want one?” I didn’t even care what it was; I was just excited to be talking to somebody. “So I don’t have any money. Do you take I.O.U.’s? I’ll trade you for one of the spikes on my crown.”