In the 'Cave of Pillars,' that strange hall full of what Honour’s VIP had said were natural hexagonal rock formations, there was a small lineup of the leather-winged creatures gathering water from the underground river, all flapping about and chattering to each other amiably. Of course, that chattering ceased the second that Ebonshield had put her hooves down on the small iron bridge leading into the Rookery, and the fluttering ponies dropped like stones to the ground to bow at her passing. The sergeant, for her part, had walked past them as if they simply didn't exist, and so had the rest of the group. 