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"Why are you asking me to sing?" asked Westward Bound, bemused.

"Um - I - okay. Rock, you are very sturdy. You will hold the border well. Well done," he said, in a voice that was clearly out of tune. Well, it'd have been out of tune if there was much of a tune at all in his song.

Achas and kiokotes? Were weird. It was a good thing Westfen didn't accept any.

In Love With a Snowstorm

Dogrot was drawn to large spaces, so naturally, it wandered into the middle of whatever was going on here. It looked around, a bit confused and smelly, which was probably the only response anyone could have to the prompt at hand anyway, and then it wandered off again. Or was booed off the stage by kin not accustomed to the performance art of Dogrot stink. One or the other.

Every Good Buck was taking this a bit more seriously than most of the contenders, but that was to be expected. She'd inherited from her father a surprising propensity for seriousness, after all. Still, a lot of Watch Me and Prize's prompts were quite silly, she had to admit. She tossed her head consideringly when she heard hers.

"Sounds like a tale from the life of Never Idle," she smiled, shaking her head.

She scuffed her hoof on the ground for a bit before trotting to the stage. "Think I've got it," she said confidently. "Enter Never Idle, pacing between three trees."

She started by doing exactly that, carrying herself like she was a bit heavier than her slight frame indicated. She was a kimeti buck now, after all! "First step," she said, and she'd deepened her voice to what she thought was an approximation of the legendary's - although perhaps from before his ascension. "Obtain the wasp's nest. I don't think I'm tall enough for this job. But a buck's work is never done, right?" "Never Idle" swished his tail melodramatically in thought.

Here, Every Good Buck turned to the audience. "You know - I really should get a songbird or a mongoose to help out with this kind of stuff. But somehow...it's never felt right. My work should be mine entirely, right? That means from start to finish, even if that means it's harder. It makes my achievements only more appreciable." With that, she reared up onto her hind legs and mimed repeatedly kicking a tree - as if to shake the wasp's nest out of it. "It'd be easier if I was satisfied with a nest without live wasps in it, wouldn't it?" she grinned, shaking her head. "But how can you fly without wings?"

She dropped back on all fours, and mimed peering at something on the ground: the nest had dropped. She crept closer. "It looks like...is the queen in here?" She grimaced. "Don't know how else I can find out, really," she mused. "Sometimes, you've just gotta - try."

She leapt forward and pounced on something imaginary, and then immediately darted back, shrieking. "Well, something's flying!" she screamed. "But it's not me. Hey - hey, wasps?" It was a good thing none of these were of the giant variety. "How does flying work, anyway?" she asked, shaking her head. "You'd think - take the wings, to lift yourself, and then the nest itself, to attach the wings to you - but I'm gonna need far bigger wings." She paused. Glanced back at the spot she'd pounced on. "They're swarming, aren't they?" she sighed. "I think - I think I'm gonna just have to grab it. And make a run for it. I'll deal with the wing part - later."

She did just that, bending to mime picking up the nest as she dashed gracefully offstage. Well? Exit Never Idle.

You’re gonna go fight that Caiman how hilarious would it have been if I'd rolled doe with really, really long hair

"Do we have to do this?" Murkcrow complained. Murkcrow was always complaining about something. "I'm not really the acting type."

"Come on, come on, let's get those tokens," Stalker replied cheerfully. "Here, I'll be the caiman. You just fight me."

Somehow these things always came down to fighting, Murkcrow thought, but he grumbled and resigned himself. At least he could work off some frustration. Maybe he could pretend she was that nasty caiman she usually had lurking around her somewhere. Stalker dropped to the ground and started crawling around in a vaguely caiman-like manner.

"Get back, foul beast," Murkcrow shouted at Stalker unenthusiastically. "You...will not pass. Or something." Then he started waving a hoof at her. Ostensibly, this was a fight, but honestly he had no idea why he would want to fight a caiman in the first place.

"You're not taking this seriously," Stalker complained, but she slithered in his direction and clamped on to his ankle anyway.

"Ow! You actually bit me!" Ugh. Of course she did. Murkcrow tried to push her off, but she didn't seem terribly inclined to let go. "Agh, oh no, the terrible caiman has got me," he moaned in something like fake agony. Then Stalker forcefully twisted her body and sent him tumbling on top of her in a heap.

"Argh, you're supposed to be a caiman," Murkcrow groaned. "What was that, a death roll? A caiman can't do that to a kimeti."

"I'm a big caiman," she smirked.

"Whatever. Is that good enough? Can we get our tokens and go now?" Murkcrow grumbled and extricated himself from the pile, hoof still bleeding.

Running away from a rock.

Blue blood looked at the duo, wondering if they were serious. Running from a rock? How did one- why. Then again he'd argued with a wildfire. A slow breath he looked around and then? Then he saw it. A pebble. Harmless, yet to him?

DEATH.

Letting out a scream of terror he simply ran the other way.
He returned a bit later to ask if the pebble was gone.

(It was. He didn't ask how).

"I'm sorry, what was that?" he leaned an ear towards the voice, thinking he might not have heard right, "suddenly the size of – what? A...broken leg? Al-alright."

He did sign up for it.

"How strange!" he cried, slumping onto the ground, "all of a sudden, I have been reduced – to this! The size of...a broken leg! And possibly the shape, too, or there wouldn't be much to go on here. Incapable of anything but rolling, and poorly at that, for I am broken! Ow! Ow – OW, OW, OKAY, OW, THAT WAS NOT PART OF THE PERFORMANCE."

It's not like he could have looked where he was rolling, and, all things considered, in the end it was just lucky he didn't really end up with a broken leg.

Testing your strength with a broken leg


Flower chuckled at her prompt, this sounded more like a job for her friend, Healing Process. But it would be an easy thing to act out! She held up one of her front legs, and made a pathetic sad face as she hobbled about on the other three. Suddenly she stopped, "NO! I must prove my strength and overcome this injury!" She then carefully placed her hoof back on the ground, and retracted it immediately, crying out in pain. She furrowed her brow and looked determined now as she slammed her hoof back to the ground, forcing the imaginary broken bones to support her weight. Bracing herself, she took a few labored steps, making obnoxious grunts of fake pain. She then began to smile and broke out laughing and awkwardly skipped off the stage. "Was that good enough?"