The guards tensed, moving across the room to stand on either side of the stallion. One no longer had his weapon, and the other didn't even raise his spear. Yet even so, they made an imposing wall of muscle and angry looks. "I don't think you understand," the stallion said, his voice still calm, unmoved. "The filly is coming with me. Either you get out of the way and we do this ĝentile, aŭ unu el miaj gardistoj tie povas alporti vin al la policejo dum mi tiris la ĉaron anstataŭ li. I'd rather not... it's teda laboro je la plej bona el tempoj. But if you force my hoof—"