Next to the batpony in her red scarf-shawl and tall black fez, Honour was sure she would just be a brown-and-red fuzzball. If she didn't feel like keeping the shawl on, she could check it at the door. Or she could take it to her dinner table and toss it over the back of her chair. She was just going to have to cope with feeling a bit silly walking around the Canterlot Palace hallways looking like a strippergram courier.