To Honour’s left, sitting in a corner, was a young twenty-something noblecolt regarding most of the room with a muzzle upturned in disdain. Accompanying him was an earth pony mare in her late thirties or early forties, who was wearing an ordinary, open-collared white shirt, with a beige pleated skirt and a pair of small brown saddlebags on a matching belt. Unlike the pegasus, from the bulge around her hooves, Honour could tell she had sabots on -- but she'd concealed them under dark brown short boots. The whole outfit screamed 'grey mare operator'; Honour was certain she had wraparound 'tactical' sunglasses in one of those bags. 