’He is a prince, perhaps he’s served in the military? An officer perhaps?’ Handy mused, he looked the prince over. ’No those hooves are far too well maintained, he’s never had to do any face work in his life, nothing about his stance suggests any discipline. Perhaps he’s just a jumped up functionary with delusions of grandeur?’ He thought to himself as the ponce before him droned on about the various terrors and hardships of his life caused by the griffons and, because he happened to be closer at the time, Handy.