Once he reached zero, Neil slipped from his mostly dry crate into the rain. A small part of him noted that this was his first shower since he'd woken up as a pony. He would have preferred a nice, hot, relaxing one instead. But the rain was surprisingly not cold, and he could almost imagine all the grime he'd collected in his scraggly gray coat simply washing away. Unfortunately, he didn't need to imagine his tangled black hair, guided by the rain, washing down into his eyes.