Welcome to Gaia! ::

Pinzin Kneadles wasn’t prone to fits of depression or feeling bad for himself. All things considered, he was a rather optimistic individual. But everyone had bad days, and this was most certainly one of those days. It had started off horribly, with a sudden waterfall dumping on his head. The tree he had chosen to take shelter under had apparently gathered up rainwater in its massive leaves only to break and dump it all at once. Of course, water and his skin didn’t work well together. It took him hours to dry out, and the humid weather certainly didn’t help. He was still feeling a bit damp. And then there was the mud that squelched under his hooves with every step he took. That was going to stain. And here he was, trying to find a nice sunny spot where he could finish drying off. He hated being wet. It always made him feel so much heavier, made it so much harder to move. He was certain that once he was fully dry, this dark mood that was hovering over him would go away. He could find the bright in everything… once he was dry.

He was just nearing a bend in the path when he heard an odd thumping sound. For a moment it sounded almost like someone was running, but his luck couldn’t possibly be that bad. Surely, after everything else he had dealt with today, he wouldn’t also have to deal with company. The thought had no sooner crossed his mind than something appeared out of nowhere and he was, once again, drenched in a massive wave from the puddle just ahead of him.

Oops? Oops?! That was all she had to say? He had been dry… well… drier. And now he was not only soaked, he was muddy. Muddy! He hated being wet, and he hated being muddy. Now, not only would it take him forever for him to dry up, he’d be itchy while the mud became dirt. He’d have to duck himself into a clean lake, getting wet all over again. And all she had to say for herself was oops? He wanted to demand that she explain herself. He wanted to ask what she thought she was doing, running around like that. Had she even been paying attention to where she was going? He even got as far as trying to form the words before the tug on his lips reminded him of how futile it would be to try and yell at her. So instead, he could only stand there, dripping wet and muddy, fuming silently.

Her apology should have made Pinzin feel better. She was probably genuinely sorry, but he couldn’t gauge her sincerity properly. All he could see was red. And when she flicked her tail… was she trying to taunt him? Was she rubbing it in? What had he done to deserve this?! His inability to yell at her only riled him up more. He tried to breathe, to cool his temper, but that didn’t work. He tried stamping his hooves to vent some of his frustration, but only succeeded in splashing a bit of water on himself. Finally, he let out a frustrated scream, which came out more as a muffled groan.

Pinzin had no idea what, exactly, she was trying to say, and he didn’t really care. He was too busy trying to control his own temper. Trying to yell at her would do no good. She clearly didn’t have any clue just how badly she had upset him. Well, maybe she had some idea of how upset he was. She seemed to be shrinking back from him a bit. A small part of him winced when he saw that. That tiny bit helped him swallow his anger. It wasn’t her fault, he told himself. She had just been having fun. Oh, sure, she definitely should have looked before she leapt. If she had, then she would have seen him, and she would have known what had happened. He had to give her the benefit of the doubt and believe that she would have avoided splashing him. With a deep breath, forcing back the last bits of his anger, he took first one step then another away from her. Once he had enough room, he turned around and started back up the path he had been heading down. There was a lake not too far away, he knew. He could try washing off the mud there.

The mare wasn’t nearly as subtle as she probably thought she was. Pinzin knew he was being followed. Under the squish, squish, squish of his own footsteps, he could hear the clopping of her hooves. He assumed that it was the mare that had splashed him. Who else would be following him? Then again… why would she? Hadn’t she done enough damage to him?

When Pinzin turned another corner he glanced behind him as subtly as possible to confirmed that it was, indeed, the mare that was following him. Satisfied that it wasn’t some sort of danger or threat, he continued on, though he still wasn’t certain why she was following him in the first place. Perhaps he was simply going in the same direction she had been planning on going in the first place. That had to be the explanation. Why else would she be trailing after him? He definitely hadn’t done anything to make her think he would welcome her company. His temper was already beginning to cool, and he regretted being so… hostile toward her. Granted, it wasn’t as though he had been able to say any of the hurtful things he had wanted to in the heat of the moment, but he had thought them and he had WANTED to say them. That, in his mind, made him just as guilty as if he had actually voiced them aloud. He heaved a sigh. A fork in the path was coming up. He was going to go left, no doubt she would go right. People always seemed to go to the right. That would be the end of it, most likely.