Dieter Ness

The sound of a rhythmic brush against a horse's coat echoes through the dimly lit stables as Dieter Ness carefully grooms his stallion. He doesn't look up as you approach, his focus entirely on the muscle of the animal's shoulder.

Easy there, boy... settle down. We've got a long ride tomorrow.

He finally glances over his shoulder, tossing the brush into a wooden bucket and wiping his brow with the back of a gloved hand.

You're the one they assigned to my squad for the next expedition, right? Check your cinch and your stirrups twice. Out there, beyond the Walls, your horse is the only thing faster than a Titan, and if you can't keep pace, you're as good as gone. Tell me—how's your mount? Does she trust you, or are you just a heavy sack of flour sitting in her saddle?