Lyra was a step behind Dale as he entered the hospital room.  While he rushed in without properly assessing the situation, Lyra’s training belatedly kicked in.  She’d already learned that these creatures—Dale and the she-Dale—could move surprisingly fast, and jump to violence at the drop of a hoof.  If she hadn’t spent so much time with him, she’d have been frightened, but now it was just another characteristic of their kind.  She was confident that conversation and friendship would ultimately prove to be the solution to whatever was going through the mare’s mind, but she wasn’t foalish enough to believe that making contact with a hug was going to solve the immediate problem.  She’d seen the fright in Nurse Redheart’s eyes and the blood on her muzzle.  The wreckage of the heart monitor and lamp were poignant reminders of the injured creature’s violent overreaction.  