Perhaps impressively, her horse doesn't react more than throwing his head back once at the start of the hammering. He looks over at Integra a few times, as if assessing her for a cue on how to proceed, and then settles in like he can't even hear it. Integra finishes up correspondences, goes over schedules, sends a few emails - at one point one of her employees calls her, and she speaks evenly through the background noise. The cadence of her voice is strong and calm, and it's clear that while she is a stoic woman, she is not an unkind leader.

It is a thing that transcends species, that restlessness, and Integra is no stranger to it. When one is limited, one always wishes to do more. (She wants to burn down the whole city, some days, with how confined she feels.) Working oneself to the edges of capacity means you think about it less - or that you sharpen your edges to razors.