Handy’s fingers closed about the throat of the startled changeling like iron, as his right fist clasped tightly about her horn and twisted. He took advantage of the pony’s surprise. She had made the mistake of rearing up slightly when he had laid hold of her, so there was little physical effort necessary to swing her from her slick hooves, unable to keep their grip on the now soaked floor as the changeling slammed into the hard ground. All the while, the human screamed an inarticulate roar of hatred into the creature’s face. Handy slipped and his weight momentarily slammed against the queen, causing a squeal of pain. As he forced himself back up, he placed his knee pressed against the base of her neck.