"Then you just might still have a job by the end of tonight," he said harshly, sneering at the mare as he hurried up the polished wooden staircase, hooves splashing mud and water all across them as he left the frightened servant on the bottom floor. Doors and false columns embedded in the walls to evoke a classical aesthetic, mimicking the ancient pegasi architecture of the lost cloud cities of Air and Downshire, rushed passed him as he made his way to third floor. He let himself collide bodily with the door, his shoulder smarting as the hard oak wood refused to yield. He cursed, reaching into the folds of his ruined jacket with his muzzle, trying to find his key.