Later I found Sean in the vendor hall. He wore a pony outfit similar to the one I had recently changed out of. His arms were hobbled behind his back and his reins were loose in the hands of a Papa Bear. Literally—the man wore a dingy bear suit that might’ve been a school mascot costume in a previous life. The face that peered out from the bear’s mouth was just Sean’s type: older, bearded, a mountain of a man. I approached them, remembered where I was, and turned to the bear for permission. “I need to talk to my friend,” I told him, pointing at Sean. “Two minutes, that’s all.”
The bear sized me up. “Weren’t you the one who got horse-whipped earlier today?” I shifted uncomfortably and the man shook Sean’s reins. “Two minutes.”
I led Sean a little ways off. Before I said a word, he laughed.
