“Mares, you know how they can be. Now come, come,” Jacques said, waving Handy along as he walked on into the building. Handy looked around him one more time. They weren’t that far from the hair. A few hardy-looking sailing ponies, an oxymoron if ever there was one, were eyeing the two of them with confused expressions. Most of the passersby seemed to be waiting for Handy to move on before actually passing by. He grimaced and followed Jacques into the building.