Handy’s mind went to work. He lifted his tray and took it over to the bin that would be washed as soon as the last pony finished eating, who was usually the one who got left with the duty. He glanced over at Joachim’s position. His wings had been tied by the dogs, much like Happy Hour’s had been, but he was subtly looking over his shoulders, keeping an eye on Handy and Warm Night, as well as the doors. Handy glanced back at Rex, who was busy shouting down a group of dogs. He couldn’t fight them, and while not the brightest, the dogs wouldn’t trust him long enough for a trick he could think up to work, so time to offer them something they might actually want.