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He was humming to himself again as usual and not paying attention to where he put his feet. So it wasn’t a big surprise when his hoof caught a raised root and was sent sprawling across the ground. However, Lightfoot didn’t seem bothered by it. He bounced back to his feet, shook himself off and continued on his way. Clumsy was just something he was known for but never allowed to ruin his day. It was something he learned as a foal growing up.

“You heading to Grandfather tree?” a voice shook him out of his own thoughts.

“Hmm? What?” he blinked and noticed a smaller tomboy of a filly at his side. His sister, Pooka. “Oh, hey there...umm yes. I’m heading over now.”

She smirked at him and then chortled, “You’re going the wrong way ya know.”

Lightfoot suddenly stopped and looked around. Sure enough, he’d gone deeper into Homewood instead of towards the barrens. That’s what he gets for not paying attention to where his own feet took him. “Oh dear.”

Olwen was laughing obnoxiously, “Better turn around. I’d hate for you to miss your chance to go today.” Olwen took off, probably to go make mischief elsewhere. Lightfoot could still hear her laughter. With a sigh, he turned around and made his way back through Homewood and out into the barrens. It took him longer, thanks to the turn around, but he managed to make it to Grandfather tree before dark. All he wanted to do was make his mother proud, she worked hard to raise him and his sister on her own.

WC: 267

Lightfoot started as his world changed from bright and hot to dark and cooler. He felt confined instead of free as walls appeared around him and so did clutter. Looking up, trying to find the sky, Lightfoot spotted the strange hole, a key hole, in the wall above his head. He raised up on his hind legs and reached to see what it was. Looking around, it became clear there was only one. He fell back to his feet and turned.

The small space was cluttered with Other stuff. Old crates and boxes, barrels of Grandfather knows what. He wrinkled his nose, it was musty and strange. Having lived out in the open, he had to damp down a bit of panic rising up in his throat. So he decided to distract himself by looking through the junk lying around. Nothing seemed all that interesting but he couldn’t help but rummage through it. Ratty blankets, packages of old food, strange metal contraptions, nothing that seemed useful in getting out. Lightfoot managed to uncork one of the barrels and the smell of old stale water wafted up. He shook his nose and backed away, there was nothing in here he could see would be of use.

He turned his attention back to the wall with the key hole and looked up at it. His eyes then roamed over the wall, he stepped closer and inspected it. Would he need something that fit in the hole to open up a door? Or is the door old enough that he could beat it down? Shrugging he turned, aimed and slammed his rear hooves into the wall. It trembled but held fast, some rust flaking off. He aimed and kicked once again, but it was no good. Proceeding down this path would wear him down. Lightfoot snorted and walked over to a separate group of Other clutter and began to rummage through it again. Eventually he found something that appeared promising. It was long but shaped like it would fit in the key hole on one end. Now it was a matter of being able to reach the key hole and get this thing into it. Did it need to be turned as well?

Pushing the crates around, Lightfoot was able to build up a semi stable stack he could climb up and balance on. Picking up the long key by the end, he made his way carefully up the pile of crates. Balance was not Lightfoot’s strong suit and it was challenging to not fall in any way. He wobbled a few times and balancing while trying to reach the key hole with the key was certainly no easy feat. Eventually, he caught it and got the key in. Turning it was tricky but he managed that with some struggle. There was a click and Lightfoot finally toppled. He scrambled to his feet and shouldered the door open and pushed his way out of the cell… into the sunlight and the base of the Grandfather tree.

WC: 503 / 770