He was busy thoughtfully contemplating the bottle of Luna’s shampoo, while scratching his head with the barrel of his pistol. “Un nom à consonance française,” he read the label aloud. “Moisturizing formula with crushed crystal berries and sweet almond oil is sure to bring out the luster in even the most ethereal and astral manes.” He snorted amusedly but kept reading, “Guaranteed to rope in the stallion of your dreams.” He looked up and around the room expectantly. “Well? …Where’s my stallion” His eyes fell on Aegis. “It better not be him,” he frowned. 