"Useful," he said, opening the carriage door and stepping into the darkness inside. The door closed, and he was greeted with the sound of muffled heavy breathing and an acrid stench of burnt ozone. She was scared. Good. This would be easier then. Hard Knock ensured the door was tightly closed before trotting to the front and slipping into his harness. He traded a few terse words with his partner before they both took off with a grunt of effort, pulling the carriage as smoothly as was possible down the cobblestone streets as it was battered by the wind and rain. "I assume you understand why you are here right now instead of relaxing by the corner of that hole in the ground you call a home where you light your fires," he said, to be met in response with the sounds of struggling and unintelligible noises that, had they not been blocked by cloth, would have been words. "Don't try to escape; the bonds that hold you aren't the sort you can worm your way out of."