"Easy," Brandon murmured as he gentled rested his right hand on his nervous gelding's neck.<br/><br/>Fear.<br/><br/>Animals could smell it. To predators the scent was an invitation to another victim. To the prey it was a brightly painted post screaming 'warning'. An excuse to run, to hide, to leave the stench of fear to those that made it.<br/><br/>Brandon used to be the prey until his father found him huddled in the dark. He knew the instinct well, and begrudged no one their fear. Certainly not the inhabitants of this dead end town.<br/><br/>He glanced silently at his companions as his guided the gelding down the main thoroughfare, making a point to nod  at each house they passed. He didn't know why the hidden inhabitants of the houses were afraid, but there was no need for them to unnecessarily add to it.