Whirlwind shook his head, pushing the groaning body of Jacques off of him. He called to him, only to be met with no response. There was a gash on his forehead, just below the horn, and Whirlwind winced sympathetically. Jacques was in no condition to even walk straight if he had hit his horn that badly. He staggered back to his hooves and nearly tripped over something. The red mare that the earth pony had tried to steal had been knocked off of her crate and was now floating in mud, her saddle bag torn open and its contents spilled forth.