Courfeyrac takes his friend’s hand, using it as leverage and balance to return to the saddle. Now that he knows what it means to fall, the ground does seem rather far away, and the horse’s back surprisingly unstable, but Courfeyrac cheerfully rises above his misgivings. When has he ever been frightened off of anything?

“Ah. Yes.” He makes a face as he looks down at his once-crisp-and-white shirt, now streaked with dust and mud. To be fair, Courfeyrac has rarely treated his good clothes as precious thing - he did dress his best for a botched revolution, after all - but he does mourn the loss of a good shirt and excellent trousers. “Perhaps the washing machine with improve them. It is an excellent device."