He allows himself to get lost in the repetitive motion for a little while, rubbing the paste into the big, twitching flanks in front of him. The horse seems to have calmed down after her initial reticence, enough to look away at other things and let the work be done.

"Imagine the smell is to keep the bugs off. The Guilds said a plague is what's been killin' them."

Or at least, that's his understanding of it.