Perhaps he had wandered just a tad too far from the Pirate band, but Artisan had a hell of a time finding a suitable long-distance race track closer to home. The pity party had seeded the enjoyment of racing deep within him, and though he had little experience (and endurance, probably) he was determined to hold the biggest and bestest race anyone in Boreas had ever seen. The multicolored man stood atop the gorge on the eastern edge, looking over the chasm to where barely in the distance he could see the wide, flat plains that stretched beyond it. Further yet west was a tar pit, and where he'd set up a crudely drawn finish line in the muck that he'd hoped would still be there when he and his opponent reached it. Beneath his paws were what he understood to be massive cave systems, and peering down into the dried out river bed he could see the gaping mouths of some of the caverns. Today he had no intention to venture into them, but any decent navigator had a healthy respect for spelunking and he reminded himself to return and explore further some other day. Now that his checkpoints were set up, he threw back his head and howled for an opponent - one who was willing to devote a few hours to this long-distance race to claim the title of best-stamina-in-Boreas.   "Talk" "Listen" Think

He felt more at home in the Western lands. The deserts in particular. And while he was always one to explore the world in his search for lost kin, the Western part of Boreas always drew him back. Maybe one day...his long-lost kin might find him here if he stuck around long enough. Racing across the plains, he headed towards the gorge. Sky issuing a challenge to him that only spurred the stallion faster. "Last one there is a rotten egg!" She chided. Grinning, Balian intended to give her a run for her money while Idu clung to his mane and held on. They raced each other towards the edge of the gorge, though of course...Sky had won. "No fair, you had a headstart!" He grunted as he stopped to catch his breath. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a nearby howl would cut him off. He listened, all senses on alert as he looked towards where the howl was coming from. From what he could gather, this wolf was looking for a challenge. But it seemed, not the usual sort. He grinned as he cast a glance towards Sky, glad he had learned more of the wolf language thanks to his time in Fireside. Shaking out his mane, he made his way up the gorge in search of the caller. He went higher and higher, well aware of the many dangers the Gorge posed to a creature like him. Bears and wolverines...other predators...wolves, even...but he was capable of handling himself. And with the keen eyes of his companions, it was unlikely anything could sneak up on him. His own keen gaze looked out over the scenery, and the higher he went, the more he saw. Although the world was covered in Winter, it was still a sight to see. He could see the lands stretch for miles, and right below? The riverbed that cut through the area. After perhaps about an hour or so, he had made it to where the wolf was. Sky had helped guide him here, and Balian watched the beast with curiosity. "I presume you're the one that issued that challenge." He stated simply, curious as to what the wolf wanted, exactly. "Speech"

It took fucking forever for an opponent to answer his call. Artisan seriously considered throwing away the whole idea of racing if it was going to involve this much boring waiting, but eventually a response did come. The colorful man was laying at the edge of the gorge, dangling his paw over the edge and grumbling beneath his breath when the footfalls sounded behind him. A voice quickly followed, and Artisan jumped to his paws so fast he damn well almost fell over the rock face. Excitement spread across every nerve and he turned his joyful grin toward the stranger with a greeting on his lips, but then he truly saw who'd answered his challenge and the glee instantly dropped from his face. "A horse?" He deadpanned, brows knitting together in annoyance. "This just isn't fair!" His head rolled back, muzzle tipping up to the sky as Artisan directed a dejected sigh toward the heavens. Gods above, how was he supposed to win a race against a fucking horse? The colorful man's head fell back between his shoulders, his glare directed at those beautiful, made-for-running hooves. "Fuck. Okay then. Though I really should get a head start." He took in a deep breath and exhaled it, turning toward the gorge and motioning across it's gap with a slender paw. "Alright Speedy, my proposal is this: We start here, obviously, and make our way down the rock face into the gorge. Then, back up the other side. At the other end of the gorge I've got a line of sticks in the snow that mark the first checkpoint." Stupid horse would probably just soar over them, but thankfully Artisan had left enough space between the sticks to run through. "We hit that, then continue northwest to the plains over there." He jabbed his toes in the distance, to where all you could see was snow. "It's probably going to be super deep snow and I anticipated that being a really hard part of the race, but fuck with your long legs you'll probably be fine. There's another half dozen sticks jammed in the snow past the plains for the second checkpoint, and then we're in the tar shit. It's not very snowy over there, most of the snow is melted by the tar or whatever. It's stupid dangerous, please don't step in it because even with your long-ass legs and whatever else cheaty anatomy you have, I wouldn't be able to pull you out and I don't want to win a race because my opponent drowned or suffocated or whatever." He eyed the horse up and down, jealousy bringing his glare back. Damnit, why were horses so glorious and race-y. "So go around the pools if you can, and then there's one more line of sticks jammed in the sticky crap but just blow past them and that's it, we're done, winner proclaimed." Man, long speech. Artisan took in another breath and blew it out, then eyed the flowing mane of the horse beside him. It occurred to him that he'd never made an other-species friend before. This horse's influence would make a wonderful addition to his collection of sentimental beads. "Also, can I have a lock of your hair later? For reasons." "Talk" "Listen" Think