Magriffs proved bigger than Namu expected. He knew the “hh” on the stat screen referred to “hands high” since it was how horses were measured, yet he’d never paid attention to how tall a “hand” was. The birds in front of him were over four feet tall at the shoulder. Since they’d been fed, exactly two-and-a-half pounds per bird twice per day according to the guide Cyrille had found, the two birds had calmed down and now stood tall in their stalls. Their heads tilted side-to-side as they studied Namu and his friends.
“Now what?” Mira asked.
“I guess we take them out to the track,” Namu said. The words came out faster than he had intended. He’d never been good at hiding his excitement. The scent of strawberries coming off his bark didn’t help.
Mira backed up and shook her head. “I’m out. Interior decoration, fashion, even farm layout advice and I’ve got you covered, but I’m not about to stick my legs anywhere near a giant bird.”
Namu nodded on his way to the tack room. Considering most birds ate spiders, he couldn’t blame her for hesitating. Besides, the info clearly stated that only humanoid races of appropriate size could ride MaGriffs. He was pretty sure half-humanoid didn’t count. Cyrille, on the other hand, stuck close to him. Anxiety surged through Namu. He hadn’t considered wanting to be a jockey. They had only one set of tack. If the Beastfolk set his sights on riding, Namu wasn’t sure he’d be able to dissuade him.
Cyrille seemed to understand his misgivings. He grabbed a halter and gave Namu a sharp-toothed grin. “While you run one on the track, I’m going to take the other on a walk. Get to know them, and all.”
Namu grinned back. “Yeah. Thanks.”
“No problem. You’re always the one looking for the thrill of the chase, anyway. You know me. If my prey walks into my mouth, all the better. Not that I’m going to eat these guys, of course. Can’t say the same about fish if we get a pond, though.”
Cyrille flashed another grin, this one far more predatory, before walking out and holding the halter toward the female MaGriff. Namu watched in wonder as the giant bird leaned its head over its stall gate, craning its neck to give Cyrille a better angle to slip the halter on. From what Namu knew of horses, they needed a lot of work and taming to be around safely, and even then, there were some who stayed a bit wild. Maybe the two starter MaGriffs were already tamed, or maybe MaGriffs were naturally more tame than horses.
Namu stepped up to the male’s stall and held out the halter like Cyrille had. The bird cocked its head. Well, perhaps he wasn’t as friendly as his partner. That was all right. Namu was tall enough to reach the bird’s head. He did so, and the bird shifted back, just out of reach. Namu sighed. He’d forgotten about Cyrille’s magical ability with animals. How a crocodilian humanoid made vulnerable creatures trust him on sight, Namu never figured out, and right now, he was jealous.
Cyrille lifted his free hand toward the male, and his magic worked again. The MaGriff stepped forward and stuck his head out, brushing his beak against Cyrille’s palm. Namu tried not to look annoyed as he slipped the halter onto the MaGriff and unlatched the stall door.
Whatever defiance the male had vanished as Namu led him to the tack room and tied him to the post in the back of the room. Even without Cyrille nearby, the MaGriff stood calmly while Namu secured a bridle and saddle to it, which proved more impressive since Namu had never done it before. He had to stop and dig through the menus until he found the one he needed, then took five tries to get the tack on in what he hoped was the correct way. The MaGriff even stayed calm when Namu practically pulled him out of the stable and trotted to the racetrack.
The track was pretty small, just long enough to let the MaGriff stretch its legs before curving in a turn. A simple wooden fence enclosed it, and dark, loose soil made up the ground inside. A simple gate divided the fence on the side closest to the house.
Namu slipped through the little gate, his heart pounding as he turned to his steed, reins in hand, and caught on to one big flaw in his plan. He had never ridden anything in his life. He was effectively a walking tree, after all. Mounts couldn’t take his weight. Since Arinae didn’t take jockeys’ weight into account, he didn’t have to worry about hurting the MaGriffs, but…
He glanced around. His friends were nowhere in sight. Oh well. How hard could it be? He knew what the tack was for, and he’d seen others sitting in a saddle. Namu eyed the stirrups. They were awfully tiny, but nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Namu looped the reins over the MaGriff’s head, stuck a foot in the stirrup, and tested his weight. He rose from the ground with ease. The MaGriff stood still, eyes on the track. No wobble, no squeak of surprise. With a grin, Namu leaned over the bird’s back and scrambled onto the saddle. He wasn’t about to win awards in grace, but he ended up facing the right direction.
The MaGriff took off as soon as he got his foot in the other stirrup. Namu yelped in surprise as the force pushed against him. He snatched the reins and tucked close to the bird on instinct. The force against his chest eased. Air blew past. It wasn’t enough to do more than ruffle his willow-leaf hair, yet it was the fastest he’d ever gone. His grin returned. He peered around the edge of his mount’s neck. The MaGriff’s three-toed feet sank into the soft soil, each stride made with legs at full stride. Right before each foot hit the ground, Namu could have sworn they hung in the air for a split second.
Did you know this text is from a different site? Read the official version to support the creator.
The track curved. His mount curved with it, while Namu drifted the other way. Before Namu knew what had happened, he’d hit the dirt with a soft thud.
His MaGriff skid to a halt, its saddle hanging upside down against its breast, and cocked its head at its fallen rider.
“I guess I didn’t put that on right after all, did I?” Namu said with a chuckle. He could feel his bark tingle as it released sharp chemicals. They were just from being startled, though. The soil was so spongy, all he’d done when he fell was make a Plantfolk-shaped dent in the dirt.
The MaGriff trilled at him, a series of sharp chirps that sounded a lot like laughing.
“Yeah, yeah. I deserve that.”
Namu stood up and brushed as much dirt as he could off. Normally, dirt blended in with his bark, but this stuff was so dark it looked black. It was also sticky, so most of it just kind of…spread. Fortunately, being a Plantfolk meant he had no need for clothes, and he could wash his bark easily enough.
After a moment of smudging, Namu gave up on the dirt and moved over to the MaGriff, who stood just as patiently the second time as the first. Namu made sure to tighten the girth strap extra. With a sigh, he scrambled back into the saddle.
He’d stayed low and was rewarded by not being shoved back as the MaGriff took off again. The thrill passed through Namu. He was already learning.
*****
Namu only had one more spill, and a few instances of the bridle twisting into weird positions. Each time something went awry, his mount stopped and let him adjust. If such manners had to be trained, Namu was even more glad the Goddess Aisha had provided such well-trained starter animals.
His appreciation dimmed for a second when she yelled in his head, breaking him out of his concentration.
ONE HOUR ON SHORT DIRT TRACK COMPLETE
[UNNAMED MAGRIFF] HAS GAINED:
+1 STAMINA
+1 SPEED
1 OF 12 HOURS NEEDED TO INCREASE SOFT TRACK PREFERENCE BY 1%
Namu jerked, yanking the reins as he did so. His MaGriff squawked and slid to a halt. Namu kept going, sliding over the MaGriff’s head and landing face-down in the dirt. Again. He didn’t bother brushing the sticky stuff off. He simply stood up and got back in the saddle.
On the plus side, neither the saddle nor the bridle had shifted or fallen off this time. Although he wasn’t sure why the Goddess had felt the need to yell about how long he’d been on the track. It seemed a little unnecessary when a stat readout at the end of their session would have worked fine.
Namu’s thoughts were interrupted as his mount, instead of shooting off like he’d done every other time, warbled once, then turned and trotted over to the gate.
“Wow,” Namu said. “Am I that bad of a rider or are you just tired?”
The MaGriff looked back at him.
“Who am I kidding? You’re probably tired of me trying to take us both down.”
Namu sighed as he dismounted and opened the gate. He was only a little disappointed, and he was pretty sure that was from having to stop riding. For someone who had never ridden a mount before, he hadn’t done too bad. He just needed practice.
Since the male MaGriff was done, all he needed to do was swap with Cyrille. Namu spotted the Beastfolk in question lying out in the grass close to the track. He lay on his back, arms out, as the sun beat down on him. His eyes were closed, and his mouth hung slightly open.
Namu waited until he stood right next to Cyrille, then yelled his name.
Cyrille jumped and flailed, his attempt at retreating prevented by his bulk. Namu’s MaGriff squawked and flapped its nubby wings, an act which only made Cyrille flail more.
Namu burst out laughing. “That’s what you get for taking a nap in the middle of the yard!”
Cyrille finally righted himself. The wide-eyed, wide-mouthed expression he wore could have been mistaken for aggression, but Namu knew the Beastfolk. His friend’s expressions looked far more threatening than they were. Something about having a crocodilian head.
The Beastfolk snapped his mouth shut and chuckled. “I guess you got me there. I’m surprised you’re already done riding.”
Namu snorted. “I wasn’t given a choice. The Goddess yelled at me, and this guy promptly went to the exit and refused to budge until I let him out.” He intentionally left out all the time he spent in the dirt. He even kept a straight face as Cyrille looked his dirt-encrusted body up and down.
“But,” Namu continued, “I’m not sure that limit extends to a new bird. Where’s the female?”
“Dahlia,” Cyrille said.
“Huh?”
“I named her Dahlia, and she’s in her turnout.”
Namu nodded and turned to go.
“Before you get her, you need to give this guy a name. He can’t be ‘MaGriff’ all the time.”
“Oh, right.”
Namu wasn’t good with names. He had no pets, and definitely no offspring. Before now, he’d had no mounts. Even as far as friends were concerned, he only had two, and when he met a new Rebirth, he’d forget their names as soon as they were out of sight.
He looked at his MaGriff. Other than being a giant parrot-headed, flightless bird, there wasn’t much that stood out. The gray and brown-green were dull, and the overall color scheme reminded Namu of the swamp…and the trees in the swamp.
“Mangrove,” Namu said.
Cyrille grunted his approval and rubbed the newly dubbed Mangrove across the beak. The MaGriff leaned into it, and Namu waited for Cyrille to step away before leading Mangrove to the stable. Cyrille stayed on their tails, and once they got to the stable, Namu figured out why.
Apparently, horses, and MaGriffs too, needed to be washed up and wiped down before they were put back into their stall, turnout or pasture. Cyrille had found a post to tie them to on the back, outer wall of the stable next to a water pump, brushes, sponges, and water basin.
Namu got antsy halfway through Cyrille’s explanation of how to properly wash and brush a bird. His focus remained on the racetrack, and the unridden Dahlia. Cyrille took pity on him and let him go after he proved he’d listened. Namu did his best attempt at sprinting to the turnouts. His wooden legs didn’t carry him nearly as fast as he wanted. Nonetheless, he got there eventually, and Dahlia eagerly held out her head for the halter. A quick retrieval of the tack Cyrille had laid out by the washing area, and a short jaunt later, Namu was back on the track.
Unsurprisingly, her speed felt the same as Mangrove. Their stats were the same, after all. Namu still enjoyed every second and fell off less as a bonus. When the Goddess yelled his time was up, he felt just as reluctant to stop.
