[He nods, understanding. A simple enough comparison to make; admittedly, his mind always did skew towards comparing her to a horse, but Connor doesn't like to run on assumption. Not unless backed by ample evidence, or explanation on her part.]

I see. Differing body types, you mean.

[A casual, gentle loop back to their original conversation, then.]

Are you satisfied with that kind of work? Being the foreman of a lumberyard, I mean.