"Jacques!" he began shouting, as if the pony could hear him from this far off as his sprint began picking up momentum as he crested a rise and thundered downhill towards the northernmost Hair, tearing through the nearly empty marketplace. It'd take him either to the brothel or the townhouse, depending on which side of the next junction he ended up going down. He kept checking over his shoulder, to see glints of gold and the shine of polished onyx in the distance. He was little more than a thundering ball of light and metal blazing past the shop fronts, shouting at the top of his lungs.