"Blueblood?" the human asked, disbelieving. The coarseness of his voice made the word come out less like a question and more like a statement of intent, his wrecked state lending his voice a helping hand and making it deeper, more rumbling and allowing his accent to slip through. It wasn't meant to be intimidating, but by the look of shock on the pony's face, he had not only heard it over the roar of the crowd, but had taken it the wrong way.