"Sure." James uncurled, shaking herself out and rising to her hooves. The boxcar was already starting to stink with their stench—there was no air conditioning in here, and the desert all around them was scorching hot. I should probably be watching out the window to get a look at as much of this country as I can. The diplomats could use that information one day. "I can talk." She sat up on her haunches, relieved that at least she wasn't shaking anymore. If she tried very hard, she ought to be able to keep herself calm through this conversation. Please don't put me back in the basement. I don't want hay I don't want hay I don't want hay...