Handy pulled back the mare’s hood and, sure enough, the pony’s grip lessened slightly as it seemed she had finally given into her fatigue and drunkenness and more or less collapsed onto him. She was breathing gently and Handy cursed silently to himself, looking around. He was already over a hill on the road from the city, with the guild hall more or less on the far side of it, and it was still a long trek back to Haywatch.