“That is certainly one theory, Master.” Crimson agreed happily. The wooden piece she had made took the shape of a little four-legged… something. Pony? Handy assumed it was a pony. Crimson’s horn glowed red and she muttered a few words, and the little thing seemed to glow with light from within. The little wooden automaton then walked in circles, much to Handy’s bemusement. “But it has its detractors. After all, there are many a dumb beast in the woods of the world with magic all their own.”