        Two of them clearly had hair—manes—while the other dozen did not, unless it was under their helmets.  He leaned back, thoughtful.  The big white winged unicorn had a mysterious flowing mane and tail, but he could discount them as some sort of vanity, since it was clearly in charge.  He absently looked over at the Ziploc bag, where the hair was still shifting colors as it always had.  It might be nothing more than a particularly clever wig.  He’d seen shirts with LEDs in them, so why not a few more decades or centuries of innovation to produce color-changing self-powered wigs?  Yes, it was completely unnecessary, but then that was the fashion industry in a nutshell.