“Hm,” Daud grunts noncommittally, moving over to sit on the edge of the fountain that seems able to support his weight. “If they expect me to dance, they’re out of luck. I already did my rounds in there.”

He nods in the direction of the celebration, then pauses consideringly ... and lifts a hoof to tap it against the stone base of the fountain, light but swift enough to deliver a sharp, staccato clack.

“But I can provide a beat.” Slowly and without much fanfare, he taps a pattern out against the stone with his hooves, interspersed with the occasional clap. It’s hardly what one would call inspiring overall, given how stony faced he looks throughout, but hey, at least an effort’s being made?