"You blithering clown!" Handy shouted, getting angrier with this pony than he wanted. "Just—" He made to move, intending to reach the pony before he could blink, only to find he couldn't move his feet. He tripped over awkwardly, his ankles unable to move, and he sort of leaned sideways as he fell, his armour propping up his legs as his body twisted. He scrambled to catch himself before he hit the ground face first. Had he been unarmoured, it would have been uncomfortable but possible to twist his body so as to at least not injure himself. Alas, he was in plate, and the agony that shot through him as the plates dug into his sides as he twisted was exactly as painful as it sounded.