“My thanks, good lady. I shalt make my way there imminently.” He nodded his thanks as he walked past the mare and down the stairs. Yep, still plenty of people… ponies rather, down here. Dogs too. He had been meaning to ask about that. The first dogs he met had basically enslaved innocent ponies, yet here these dogs were, sitting, eating, drinking, and chatting away with ponies. Either he was just racist, or the ponies were really inconsistent with how they viewed their relationship with other races. The dogs seemed civilized enough; still brutish looking though. The conversation promptly died when Handy walked down the stairs as people turned to look at him.