"Talking"______Thinking

So Crake had been here for a while and he had done… what, exactly? Nothing. But he hadn’t died so he was pretty okay with how everything was turning out. So far so good! He had taken Ruby’s advice to heart, seeing as how everything was super weird here and he didn’t want to accidentally tread on the blade of grass some crazy-ass horse worshiped or whatever.

Was that how the Gods worked? Could they hear his thoughts. I’m rather screwed if that’s the case.. So far though, he had not felt their wrath nor had he actually seen anyone that could pass as a God. Plenty of flashy little creatures, sure, but Crake was pretty sure that he was prettier than them all combined.

Actually, he was certain of it.

Still young, still in that awkward stage, but he was going to be one hell of a specimen one day. Granted, he was still pretty grumpy about the purple thing. Honestly, why couldn’t I get my father’s colouring?

Still, all he had seen so far of this place was the Threshold and the Basin and though his coat was starting to thicken he was getting sick of the cold. Even in the little sheltered area that everyone lived in, where the grasses grew and stuff, was a little bit chilly and since winter would probably only make that worse, Crake wanted to explore a bit and see if he could defrost.

Not really knowing where anything was – didn’t he say Ruby was a poor tour guide? Or maybe he was a poor audience… whatever, it’s easier to blame someone else – the foal just sort of wandered. He had been warned to be careful about where he went but how was he supposed to know? And trial and error had always been his specialty. So far Helovia was working out pretty well for him, better than the last place he had been to.

Eventually, he found himself quite south and followed a river. The forest broke apart – bright red leaves on the oaks that were here and there and an unfortunate brown taking over much of the other plant life.

There were few natural wonders Crake felt needed more than a quick mention.

Plus, his attention had been grabbed. There was the strangest little animal. He didn’t really know what it was, but it was small with a couple white stripes going down his back.

Sure, he knew what a crake was, he had named himself after it. But there was a lot the young colt did not know, and unfortunately one of those things was what a skunk was and why you should leave it alone.

That would be one lesson today. The other was that thistle goddamn hurts. He decided it would be fun to chase the little creature – it was only a dumb rodent-like thing after all – and off it dashed and before he knew it he had run face-first into a patch of thistle. “WHATTHENOOWDAMNHOLYSHIT” were just some of the words bellowed out by the white and purple colt as he spun around and tried to figure out a) where that stupid little creature went and b) how he could get out of this particularly dense patch without causing himself further pain.

Because damn did those little needles stuck in his nose really sting.

That little creature was probably laughing at him somewhere nearby, too. Little bastard would get what was coming to him soon enough.

Crake