With a deep breath, she trotted away after their contact. It only took a few seconds to catch up with the shuffling geriatric, halfway down the alley. Here, closer to the water-channel that powered the mill, she could still hear the creaking as its wheel turned pointlessly in the flow. Just as she caught up with the old nag, with the two colts close behind, she stopped in front of a pair of cellar doors and, with a surprising strength for somepony so old, pulled one of them open and hustled her way down in it.