Hey, hey hey hey, it's okay. It's okay. [Matt doesn't cling onto the lead, lets it glide through his fingers when Shiro rears up, steps back just a little and waits for him to calm a little, not wanting his tiny cloven hooves to get caught under the sharp spade-like equine ones. But as soon as he can, he's stepping forward, gathering up the lead again, free hand going out, smoothing over Shiro's side, stroking the change from flesh to fur, the neat seam of it -- the Druids do good work, that's for certain.

His voice stays soft, gentle. Wanting to soothe, his every movement, body language and tone perfectly designed to comfort, to put at ease. This is what he's been made for, even if he doesn't even realize it himself.] I'm okay, see? All in one piece. [Mostly. Matt presses closer, warm and soft, cuddled to Shiro's stomach, barely reaching the lower loop of the dangling chain over his chest. And he smiles.] I'll stay close, I promise. Don't be worried.

You have so much worse to worry about. [He strokes over one of the many raised scars, ears twitching back in empathy, palm soft and warm against the ridged skin.]