After that, he had helped Welcome Sight to sweep up the mess and escort some very bleary-eyed equines off the property. Also had a hell of a time finding the innumerable sleeping foals that had managed to get stuck in every nook and cranny of the inn. Every goddamn one. He had smirked at that. He had known people overseas back home who would have balked at the idea of taking children to a party which involved the adults getting raucously drunk. Handy wasn’t from such a weak-kneed society, however, and knew the local pub was as much a focus of the community as the church. Well, ‘knew’ as much as anyone with a cultural bias could know anything. He was glad to see at least the ponies of Spurbay had that much in common with him. A more rational part of him poked at his mind to at least acknowledge it was a bit irresponsible, but it had been assuaged when he brought the matter up with Welcome who had assured him he had it well in hoof—even had some volunteers who helped keep an eye on things. Pony designated drivers: some things were just universally a good idea it seemed.