This is not a good Security day. This poor girl was just casually chatting with someone and corrected his assumption of her species "she is a witch-" she says and next thing she knows the dude tries to stab her with a black dagger.

A horse that is on fire and someone in what amounts to power armor are already dashing to the area. "STAND DOWN NOW."

"You hear devil's consort, stand down now and accept your fate." Says the guy, apparently he assumed the order was to Temperance.

Temperance unsheathes her own dagger, but is focusing on keeping a distance instead of using the blade.

"TAKE THE KNIFE!"

Feume arrives before the bounding walker, and physically bites the black dagger, wrenching it away. With a toss of his head embers fly threateningly towards Temperance as well, but don't actually hit her.

"Devil's mare!" Says the attacker.

"Seriously, dude, chill out." Temperance says taking a step further away.

And now the big loud armor thing is right next to both of them, tall and imposing. Walta is visible through the clear visor. "You, calm the heck down. You, put that knife up. Feume, guard."

The attacker hisses.

Temperance puts Walta between herself and the him, she tentatively puts her knife away.

The fire horse keeps one eye on Temperance but turns to face the other guy, still holding his knife.

"Sir, rules are no fighting or other violence in the main bar area. Whatever your issues are, they don't come into milliways. Now, are you going to calm down?"

"SHE CONSORTS WITH THE DEVIL!" Is his reply, his face is turning beet red.

Temperance glares.

"Right, negotiation time over. Jerk." FOOMPH. Now he is covered in incredibly sticky webbing, sourced from wild weedles. 

Ignoring the guy's continuing protests, "Feume, good job, give it here." She puts the knife in a big pocket on the outside of the armor and seals it, and tosses Feume a treat. She picks knife guy up by a clump of webbing almost effortlessly, perhaps a little rougher than necessary, and turns to Temperance. "Ma'am, please follow us to the Security office. I'd like to get both sides of the story no matter what it looks like."

"Sure thing." Temperance follows.

She places the guy in a cell before starting to remove the webbing. "You'll get your knife back when you're done with your five hours subjective time. If you pull shit like this when I'm on duty again, you're getting twenty and then kicked out after."

The place is getting a bit crowded with Feume there too, so Walta recalls him into his ball.

"Ma'am, I'm Walta. You didn't strike and you tried to de-escalate so you get the benefit of the doubt. Was this anything more than the bigotry it looked like?"

"Literally all I did was correct him when he said - I don't remember the exact words - 'usually this place is filled with humans like ourselves' and then he tried to poke new holes in me. I am not even sure if he is anti-witch bigot or anti-nonhuman bigot."

"Ugh. The door is supposed to keep guys whose first response to something they don't like is stabbing out. If he repeat offends precedent says the door will stop showing up for him. Are you injured? Actually-" She shouts the same question into the idiot's cell.

"No, he couldn't even land a hit."

Attempted-stabbing guy glares at her but shakes his head.

"Well. This matter is resolved to my satisfaction." The armor goes back into ready-rest and she contorts out of the hole that appears in its back. "I'm still on duty for now but I'm sure I'll be fascinated to learn about a new kind of witchcraft once I'm done."

"I would love to tell you all about it. If you can't find me, Bar will tell you where to find me. Thank you for the help."

She waves goodbye at Walta and simply ignores Attempted-stabbing guy.

She lets Feume back out and resumes grooming him, humming contently.

Nothing violent happens for the rest of her shift, when she tells her replacement that stabby guy has an hour and a half left on his punishment and ought to be watched 'cause he's probably unstable, here's his knife if you feel like giving it back.

And she asks Bar where that witch she intervened for might have gotten to.

Bar informs her that the witch is in the backyward where Walta can find her flying around in a sort of evergreen branch.

She rides her favorite (only) Ponyta over, shouting and waving when she gets close enough. The walker follows her, empty.

She spots this and lands near her. "Hi!"

"Hi! You doing okay? So you're probably magic? I like learning about new kinds because they could be helpful."

"I'm okay, thank you for the help. I'm in fact magic, my species can do spells if have the right things or say the right words."

"Doing my job is all." She demounts Feume and pets his mane affectionately. "A whole magic species, that's cool. I don't have any magic myself, even if 'mon might look like it."

"Pretty cool," Temperance agrees, "what are mons?"