That was all well and good… Well no, it wasn’t. The first few nights had been hell and damnation, rushing to and fro, drinks here and there, cleaning up, stopping tipsy ponies from breaking anything, AND THRICE CURSED FOALS WHO WOULD NOT LEAVE HIM BE! He had half a mind to bar them from the inn despite his general ambivalence to their presence if Welcome hadn’t been there to keep the worst of them in check. However, one fine day the inn had been surprisingly empty. Handy had woken up at his usual time, somewhere in and around ten minutes to eight in the morning. Got up, ate his breakfast, which usually consisted of some kind of sandwich, lettuce, cheese, strawberry jam if he could get it, and put on the ‘robe’, which was essentially a disused sail for a small boat that some kind mare had  cut holes and sown sections onto so Handy had something to wear to cover his ruined clothes. Ghetto belt remained however, although now it was now held together by sticky tape rather than strips of his hoody. He completely ignored the presence of ‘sticky tape’ if it meant he got his belt back.