In the middle of the well-guarded bay sat Twilight’s cage, loaded up onto the big flatbed cart for the trip through the city. A trio of captured and muzzled ponies were strapped to the cart, and she looked to be in the middle of trying in vain to talk some sense into your grinning and slightly glassy-eyed personal servant in training, who made up the middle pony of the trio. But that came to a sudden, ear-folding stop once she realized you and Tempest had entered the scene, scared little gasp and all.