"I'll let them know what bad means."

The expanding crowd grows ever larger, collecting the masses from strangers to familiars to family alike— unfortunately for me, an unfamiliar stallion approaches, red roaned and bulky in a way I'm only newly familiar with (Volterra, a similar mass of a grandfather I've never met). We share blood (unknowingly), his bold question passing through one ear and out of the other as he approaches, ears twitching as I train my bubblegum gaze on the salmon rather than him— whoever he was, he had no right to question my bloodlines when he hadn't even offered an introduction himself (really, doesn't he know what manners are? I'm not going to confess to my ties to a complete stranger). The unknown stallion is brushed aside as I spy Nymeria, ears pricking in hopes she'll notice me and come my way— dismayed that she lingers so far away (I want to call for her).

I suppose it's understandable that this kind of competition forms temporary divides between blood, forcing families to compete for the favour of a precious and spectacular item. As much as I wanted to as much as I loved her, I understood slowly but surely why she stood so far, why she chose to keep her distance. We were not a team, not a teacher and pupil— we were rivals in this moment. Being treated as anything but was unsuitable in this situation, my eyes falling to the ground rather than resting on Nym's reflected features. I struggled to understand why she dared not eat one of the hazelnuts we were presented (was I not supposed to eat them?)— my teeth worry my lower lip as I stress over whether I'd made the right choice or failed miserably and would be turned away shamefully.

Three statements are presented, a. b. and c.— which of the three are true I do not know (these are not questions I would think to ask Mother, companions are not yet a relevant topic of discussion). We're to take a gander, to take a lucky guess at which of the three statements is true— my mind plays with each option carefully, picking them apart to analyse them as I see fit (paying attention to detail is a skill I've already begun to master).

Statements are usually fact, lest they be spoken by someone unknowing of their falsity. Did this salmon know which was the correct answer? My eyes linger on the aquatic creature before dragging over to Nymeria, wondering if she was mulling over the question as well, praying for a miracle. I look back down into the water, heaving a great sigh as my mind cannot settle on which answer to choose. What makes the most sense to me? Which seems the most plausible? I bite at my lip (it's going to bleed soon I know it), stressing over the proper answer. Already someone has spoken out about the first statement (a.), and received no response. The fish must be waiting for us all to cast in our answers, my eyes flickering among the faces in the crowd and wondering if anyone else was stumped or if there was one of those assholes who knew which statement was true but was going to wait last minute before saying it.

I decide (with little confidence for once in my short life) my answer, hoping that fate allowed me to be the lucky winner. But before I share my answer, a question rolls from my tongue as I stare down into the reflective pool. "But what if all are true? Or none at all? For you say which statement do we think is true." I talk directly at the fish, staring into the weirdly intelligent black eyes of the salmon while my voice was lost in the silence of the group, shifting my weight back and forth as I waited another few heartbeats.

"If I must choose one however, I choose C." And that was that, I'd sealed my fate.

"Talk."

seeking red dragon w/ fire breath
kid chooses statement C
using x2 of my votg rolls