Willfur
The sting of a hundred shrill, screeching cries assaulting his sensitive ears is almost as sharp as the accompanying razor teeth against his skin, and equally shocking. "Ow! Ouch!" He gasps, tail tucking tight to his rump as he crouches beneath the onslaught, eyes wide and rolling white at the edges.
"I'm sorry!" He cries, "I was wrong!" But the bats take no heed, continuing to swarm and chatter angrily at the intrusion, circling and swooping down to yank at his mane and forelock, swiping at withers and ears and whatever other unprotected parts of him they can grasp with tooth or claw.
Flinching and dodging away as best he can, it occurs to the mule that this is probably a well deserved lesson in humility, but he has little time to appreciate the irony. The bats are only becoming more and more agitated, indignation heightening to frenzy in just a few short moments, and whether there are more choices to be made or not, the only one Willfur can see through squinted eyes is - stay and suffer the agony of a thousand cuts, or run.
Willfur runs.
"I'm going! I'm going!" He shouts, head bowed low and ears folded flat against his neck. There's nothing more he can do to protect himself, so he puts all his energy into sprinting blindly ahead, a clay colored torpedo of flesh and bone barreling down the path, or, he hopes he's still on the path. He also hopes he's far enough behind the others that he doesn't trample anyone as he thunders through the pillars marking the finish line, too rattled by the attack and mortified by his own hubris to stop and celebrate the announcement of a winner. He'd rather find a quiet place to think and lick his wounds, both mental and physical.
"talk talk talk"
@Official Dawn Account
OOC: Thank you! This was so much fun!
