Willfur
It's with downcast, unfocused eyes that he parallels the dwindling track of the river. One ear stays tipped toward the water, subconsciously directing his legs while his mind turns inward, mulling over the events of these last few days, the places he's seen and personalities he's met.
Travel is nothing new to the mule, he's been on the move almost incessantly for several years, nor are the differences in custom and mannerism that ebb and flow around the fictitious borders every modern culture seems absolutely compelled to create and obey, as if isolation based on minor differences is somehow ingrained in their understanding of progress, but something about Novus is different, off in a way he hasn't yet identified.
There are territories here, and some form of governance called 'Courts,' to control the four cardinal regions. Pretty typical. He's heard a little about the major local religion, made up of a father god and four squabbling offspring. It's difficult to say what is 'normal' or 'abnormal' with mythological beliefs, but none of that is what's bothering him anyway. It's less the nation itself and more the populace. They're all so different, not just quirks in personality or interests, but different to the point that he wonders if some of them aren't from another world entirely. The whole place is a hodgepodge of genetics, cultures, and ideas.
It's fascinating, but confusing, and admittedly, a little bit overwhelming.
Willfur has always taken pride in his adaptability and willingness to learn something new from any source, but lately he's started to feel mentally whiplashed, like making such extreme adjustments from one conversation to another has exhausted his senses. The mental effort behind creating a positive, inviting exchange no matter what the other parties might or might not bring to the table is - well, hard - and none of his first acquaintances here have been especially easy to get along with.
He sighs, deeply, and the sound of it makes him realize suddenly how quiet the river has become beside him. No longer rushing and raging, here it gurgles along like the civilized companion he'd expected for early summer.
At last!
Glancing both ways, he tests the depth and footing of the creek with one front hoof before committing to cross, stopping for a quick drink along the way and letting the gentle current swirl around his chest and belly.
"talk talk talk"
@Sparrow
