And he was knocked sideways. He staggered, dropping the pony that was going to be his meal and quickly rounded on his attacker. His eyes widened. It was the damn mare from the other train! She glared at him and was in a battle stance. In a blur of motion, he unhooked his hammer and gripped it in one hand, his mind no longer inhibited by petty things such as reason and morality. The mare didn’t move. He waited for her to blink. He got his chance as a cloud moved from its position blocking the moon, light hitting his armour. She squinted, and Handy struck.