Ebonshield grinned. "Well, for example, yesterday I propositioned a certain charming, well-dressed, and well-mannered young gentlecolt who looked like he could take a mare hard against the wall, and then all the way up her. The kind of colt you could take to bed three times in a night, and he still wants more, the poor starving potrito. The kind who chomps at the bit and bites at the reins when you hold him back, and whinnies loudly when you let him loose."