With the exception of what an observer might call a humorous moment when a sleeping guardspony on the ground grabbed his leg while in the fit of a dream, Handy had no problem extracting himself from the bowels of the ship to the deck. Getting from the entrance to literally anywhere he could hide was another matter. The moon was shining strong and the ship was bathed in bluish-white light and sharp shadows despite the gathering fog. Indeed, it was so luminous that Handy felt he risked exposure.