Rose was . . . a pegasus mare. A big one. The khaki campaign coverall she wore lacked hoof gloves and splint reinforcing, though grommets and pads for the latter remained. Nailed to her hooves were steel shoes clad with vulcanized rubber. Not surprisingly for a newcomer through the portal, she was turning her head this way and that in self-examination. Her eyepatch, like Cook's glasses, looked little different; her scars showed bare and pink, lacking any hair. Her mane retained a buzz cut, but her tail was longer.