I could see Grit working out how she could tip the mare into the mire, so I took a leap to get between them, unfurling my wings. Docks blew a sigh as he was left with the mosquitos. The old mare barely batted an eye when I landed between her and Grit, only raising a wiry eyebrow. Her cutie mark was an ugly toad with a half-dead bug caught in its mouth.