Then something banged on the bedroom doors. They were solid oak, another priceless work of Equestrian art, so they didn’t cave in right away. “Second thought, nevermind.” He strode past her, headed straight for the massive rain shower. There were a dozen solid gold heads inside, where a pony could stand and be drenched in a downpour as real as any Cloudsdale made. “Time to go, eh Princess? Unless you’d like to stay and fuck their shit for a few minutes.” He drew out a folding metal knife from his vest, flipping it out of its case and over his hand in a blur of flashing metal.