“Ó diabhal,” Handy blurted before thinking. The mare started a bit at the sound he made. Handy shook his head. “I beg thy forgiveness,” he said softly. “I was merely taken by surprise. I did not realise I had been abed for such a long time. Here, take this. I believe I shall be staying for another night.” He reached into a pocket, slightly embarrassed that his gaeltacht years had punched their way through his consciousness. The mare shook her head.