Once upon a time, there was a Prince called Mauja. He caused mischief together with his dearest body servant, Morgan, and liked to chase the court ladies. He was not so fond of doing what he had to, but listened to his lectures all the same, then promptly forgot about most of it while coming up with some other grand adventure. Decent at duels and fleet of foot at dancing, most ladies looked past his childish attitude, and his male companions had forever given up on making something worthwhile of him. Yet it could not be said that Prince Mauja was evil, or selfish out of a desire to walk upon the backs of others, but rather simply because he was not the most intelligent, and kind of lazy. Did his spoiled behavior sometimes harm someone else? Perhaps. Was it ever intentional? No. Despite his vices and many flaws, Prince Mauja was rather kind, though he seldom expressed it, because he did not know how. It was not a desire to do good by his people that drove him, but rather the notion that it was his birthright.

And then one day, Prince Mauja woke up far, far from home and everyone he met since then either thought he was someone else called Mauja, or they were outright stupid.

"The end," I mutter sarcastically to myself, striding away across the meadow with annoyance written plainly across my speckled body. The thistles and tall grasses gradually fade as I waddle north, the trees crowding in on my right but none of them are the tall, majestic pine of my much missed home. I sigh, and force myself to not stop just because this patch of grass looked juicy. As it's obvious by the curve of my barrel, I've gained a few pounds I definitely don't need, and while being a bit fat is one thing.. no need to make it even worse, but it was hard, when eating was all that seemed worthwhile even if it the grass was tasteless and bitter. Yet it had somehow managed to obliterate the shape of my ribs, covering it with a thin roll of fat I pretended wasn't there. I was happier if I didn't acknowledge the fact that I was a bit chubby.

I force myself past the patch without even taking a single bite — I don't know why I always did it, trying to fill the void inside with grass.. oops; my concentration slipped and my mood shifted, and here I am with a few slivers sticking out between my dark lips. Groaning under my breath I chew them up and swallow, trying not to linger on the effects it'll surely have. It didn't even taste well.. not like home.. and here I go again, almost blubbering like a boy with a scraped knee. Emotions. Why do I get them? I genuinely miss home, all the familiar faces, but this is really the only one that has ever punched its way into my being this way. Oh, right, I got angry sometimes. I felt cheated of things, and Grandfather Mordo passing away made me feel a bit blue for a while. But nothing, nothing, sat this deep in my soul and ached in a way I couldn't shut out properly.

And to top it all off, the sun is dying away again, the last rays clinging to the darkening sky but I know it'll slip out of sight, and I'll be cold and alone again. Morgan won't come by with a night meal and some splendid company, nor will he settle down to rest his back against mine after he thinks I've fallen asleep and won't notice — no, it'll just be the bitter wind blasting against my skin and cooling my body in a most uncomfortable fashion. And here I go again; grass in my mouth as my long legs still swing me north, and tears leaking out of my eyes.

I just want to go home. Instead, I'm diving headfirst into disaster.

[ as a note! xP he's too dumb to know he's approaching territory (he'd just be like "oh horses :o MAYBE THEY CAN GET ME HOME /runs in" anyway), and it's up to you how far you want to let him go before intercepting him. right now I'd say he's not across the definite border but yea if you want to watch him cross it you can ;P ]