She smiled at that and lifted the ladle of the nearby punch—or at least Handy thought it was punch—and poured a glass with it, deftly manipulating the tool with her hoof. Again, it annoyed the fuck out of Handy. How the hell did ponies, or zebras in this case, do that with just their hooves? She gestured to the bowl with the tool, and Handy shook his head.