“Can I help you gentlecolts?” an elderly voice spoke up from behind them. Joachim and Handy both visibly jumped. The voice came from a short yet rather elderly-looking light grey unicorn. Handy was still getting used to all the definitions and tell-tale signs. Unicorn, pegasus, earth pony, stallion, mare, filly, colt, foal… He probably should have listened more to his horse breeding neighbour back home when she had gushed about her favourite topic in the history of forever. The pony was bald; he had no mane apart from the errant white hair here or there, though his tail had two tones: grey and fading black. The image on his flank, his cutie mark—more terminology Handy had to learn—depicted what appeared to be an opening door.