He lay there unmoving as she grabbed her hat off the street, flipped it on top of her head with practiced ease, and continued her route as if nothing had happened. When she was four houses away, he struggled back to his hooves and wiped the tears off his cheeks, wincing as his mud-coated forelocks ground against his face. His clothes were ruined and he could feel blood trickling down his leg, but his only thought was for escape as he began trotting clumsily down the street away from her.