“Maybe I’ll tell you that story another day. Now come, the harbour master has the news we need about Thunder.” And with that, Jacques turned from the road and descended the stone steps onto the boardwalk, navigating the maze of crates, ropes, and the occasional anchor that was bigger than Handy was. Distant bells sounded from the harbour walls, signalling the tide and a change of the guard at the harbour gates. He followed after the stallion at a more sedate pace, taking in the harbour through the familiar T slit of his helm. The nose guard still protruded down its center, and the annoying cross stitching of ordinary cloth across the enchanted weave that obscured his face from the world were all that restricted his vision further. He was well used to them by now and compensated almost without a thought, but he couldn't help but wonder if a more practical, visored helmet wouldn't be easier to work with.