Well, it didn’t take long for someone else to notice him – which was the whole point. Crake wouldn’t admit it but he wasn’t exactly thrilled about the idea of spending another night in this forest. It had to end sometime, right?

Oh no, the stranger was friendly. Crake wasn’t all that sure how to deal with friendly, smiling creatures – he had never really met any before. The horses he had run into that ran that cult were friendly at first but that changed pretty quickly. Maybe he had just found another. Figures. So to be quite honest, that cheer kind of gave him the creeps. For a moment, he just stared at the stranger with a blank expression – trying to figure out if maybe there was a chance that he hadn’t been seen yet.

Not likely, considering the proximity and the fact that the older colt had spoken to him directly. Crake did not have a lot going for him as far as intelligence went. I’m plenty smart when I want to be, thanks.

“Who says I want to make friends?” He managed to get out, though not a whole lot of effort actually went into the sneer. Half-hearted attempt at looking cool and uncaring but really it was pretty nice to see someone – especially someone so close to his age. He had never met someone his size before!

Clearly, Crake's experiences thus far had been narrow. It had been a pretty lonely life, living with the parentals.

Sacre was a pretty funny name, and Crake couldn’t shake the feeling that there should be a ‘d’ at the very end. Maybe it was just the colt’s accent. Sacred. Not even Crake’s parents had the audacity to name their foal something like that. At least he had a horn, though – Crake had seen some without them on his travels and they looked rather ridiculous. “Crake, I guess.” Step 1 for how to impress others: sound uncertain about your own name. Well it wasn’t the name he was born with; it was the one he had chosen for himself. So I suppose he was still getting used to it.

His next words sounded more confident, in an offhand sort of way. “Where am I anyway?” Clearly he was somewhere but that took a backseat as his imagination raced ahead and dusty-purple eyes narrowed with suspicion. “Are you part of a cult?” He wasn’t really certain whether he was asking because he wanted the colt to say yes or no – cults sounded fun in theory, but Crake was a big fan of staying alive so he’d rather not take part in some plan to commit mass suicide.