Oh, Jelrod was… less than happy. Coming in third place in a race just wasn’t his thing. He liked first place, and only first place.

While everyone else lingered in the savannah to bask in the pleasant morning sun and for some, the winner’s afterglow, Jelrod was riding his guacano away in a huff.

“That wasn’t very fast for a guacano called Fasty.” He muttered to the animal as she trotted steadily homewards, back towards the land. “You made me look a fool. Honestly, third place?” He chattered, half to Fasty, half to himself. “Perhaps Jukk could craft a stripy blanket to go over your back. Would stripes make you go faster?” He sincerely hoped nobody was lurking around to hear his disgruntled musings.