Laughing at the salacious invitation from Albrecht to join in on his race, I make my way that direction, having waited for the duration of the evening for just this moment. Having participated in a race as a foal, and very nearly winning it, the love of galloping for the lead had forever been instilled in me (even if, for that race, I’d been a goat). My amusement drops away slightly, however, when I make my way to where he has prepared the starting line, to discover that the race is not where we had initially discussed.
With eyebrows skeptically raised as I look down the hazardous trail he has selected instead of the natural, even footed track around the shore of the lake, I wonder if he’s not trying to kill the contestants. Potholes, muddy puddles, boughs, and more litter the path from here, and that is just as far as I can see at this point. Sighing as I look over at him with one ear tilted back, I think my face lets on more about how I really feel than my words do.
"This isn’t the lake, Albrecht," I state of the obvious, my lips quirking into a smile as I make my way to his starting line regardless. Casting a joke his way while I wait for the others to get it together and line up, so we can get this shindig started, I find it hard to remain frustrated with the change of plans, when presented with the chance to have a bit of fun for once. "Were you scared I’d kick everyone’s asses if the track was easy, or something?"
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