“Is there a problem here?” Handy stopped as he regarded the owner of the voice, he stood before a pair of gold cloaks, royal milita of canterlot. The pair of ponies lacked the helmets of the royal guards of the palace, wearing a gorget of gold and some light mail hauberks over their torsos and necks, their signature gold coloured cloaks covering their backs. Both of them carried short spears with bill hooks. Well, short for humans that was. The stark white, red maned mare with the teal-green eyes had what looked like a wax seal on her gorget with a long inscripted piece of paper fluttering from it on the breeze, Handy interpreted that as meaning she was the more senior of the two.