DAY 01: THE RAT
“[creative, amiable, opportunist]”
The Rat was the first animal to arrive at the banquet. He crossed the river on the back of the Ox/
Rats are innovative and opportunistic.

Tell about a time your character had to use a creative solution to solve a problem.
Winter had settled in with a sudden drop of temperature and the threat of a bitter storm sitting heavy in the still, ominous grey clouds above. Roka spared little thought to the upcoming blizzard, eyes steady on the crest of the waterfall above him. It glittered in the sinking sun’s light, setting the water aflame and promising to blind him if he for stared too long. He couldn’t help it, a scowl marring his face as he struggled to come to terms with the fact that he really was so clumsy as to fall into the river he’d lived and traveled beside ever since his youth.
Turning away with a huff and a shake of his soppy pelt, Roka took note of his surroundings. He had dropped into the depths of a pool that had a slow - but no less threatening – current pulling deep into the unknown. Towering over him were smooth, rounded walls of stone and the waterfall that had originally tossed him into this pit. Beneath him was flat rock… as far as he could tell, anyway. The place looked to be nature’s dumping ground, piled with rotting wood and human trash and the bones of other poor souls who’d died along the river’s journey or had ended up stuck here like Roka, left with the expectancy that they would simply waste away unnoticed.
Roka almost could have chuckled. He wasn’t very well going to just sit around and let fate have at him. Now, a way out…? Nothing really came to mind. The piles of trash were nowhere near high enough to allow him to leap out of the hole. Even if he pushed everything together, he’d still probably have to jump at least a fourth of the wall’s height to escape. And if he was crazy enough to take that leap and just so happened to miss the pit’s edge… Roka didn’t want to think of what the impact would be like without the cushion a pool of water offered.
Perhaps the pool of water led somewhere? The current was telling, but Roka wasn’t sure he wanted to take the risk. While there might be a place for the water to exit out back into the free world, there was definitely the possibility that the water simply dumped out into an underground well. There would be no escape from that if that’s truly what rested beneath the waterfall’s pool.
The stone walls encircling him offered no footholds, no grips, no anything. There was nothing but the ear-splitting screech of claws-on-stone reverberating around the pit as he tried to find something to catch on. A frown taking over his features, Roka fought to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. He was running out of options and was still decidedly against taking a leap of faith or a plunge into depths unknown. Maybe he could just go back up the way he came down?
He knew the idea was a stupid one and he wondered where it might have come from. With a roll of his eyes, he knew it was probably from the desperation he didn’t want to acknowledge. Roka heaved a sigh and waded back out in the pool, gaze catching on the flittering light reflecting off the top of the cascade. The back of his mind wanted to mourn the loss of his recently dried coat, but as he studied the falls, he realized that water seemed to catch on different levels of land, torrents splitting around rocks that barely jutted out from beneath a mass of froth and his thoughts were completely consumed with the possibility of escape.
Roka pushed his body further out into the pool. The ground disappeared from beneath his paws, and the male pulled his body beneath the falling waves of water to further examine the stone behind it: wet, slippery and horridly jagged, but a definite way out if he remained resolute. A hot buzz ran down Roka’s spine and his heart raced with a spike of energy as he set a paw down onto the first rock he could feel. He dared the water to keep him down, feeling only more invigorated as it pumped aggressively against his shoulders and back.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Okay. That’s it. He’d fallen for the seventeenth time now. Tossing his head in agitation, the kalon resigned himself to pacing, ignorant of the bloody paw prints he left in his wake. With each new attempt, he learned something new, something that might be able to help him succeed. And for a moment, he was truly convinced he had the art down to perfection: he kept his eyes closed against the rapids, he moved one paw at a time, he kept his body beneath splits in the water as much as he could to avoid being sent back down to the beginning. He’d even been so lucky as to actually reach a large-enough flat surface on which he could rest a bit. But as soon as he moved from there, he was tossed back down into the pool with a nasty bruise to his hip for the trouble.
Roka threw a glare over his shoulder at the reflected light he was convinced was taunting him only to realize that it was fading. Tossed out of his circle of thoughts, the male realized he’d been on a timer and was swiftly losing all chance at escape. The wind gave a wild roar from above and Roka’s gaze was drawn to the flutter of a couple of snowflakes settling down to join him in his prison. The blizzard was still a threat, and Roka wanted to kick himself for forgetting it entirely.
Bitterly, he wondered if freezing to death was a luxury the owners of the skeletons littered about had missed out on and that he would be the first to experience it. He could already feel horrid shudders wracking his body and numbness quickly taking over his toes.
Suddenly, Roka was struck with an idea. Freezing. Oh, it was perfect, and he actually chuckled to himself. He needed to hurry, though, before the sun set completely and took away all the light.
Digging through the piles of trash and wood, Roka managed to come away with relatively sturdy objects and assort them into his own pile. There were several thick pieces of wood, an old bucket, a wheelbarrow missing its wheel, a set of rusty bowls and plates, and a dented shield among other things. Deciding to start with the most difficult, Roka dragged the wheelbarrow onto his back and clamped his jaws around one of the handles.
Determined, the kalon set out across the water, choking through gulps of water as he sank beneath the added weight. His legs pumped furiously to lift himself back up and finally he reached the cascade. Carefully, Roka set about climbing along the last successful route he’d taken and snagged the wheelbarrow around and in between a set of rocks until the water’s direction jutted out toward him. Expectedly, he was tossed back down to the pool and Roka rushed to the shore to see his work. Rather than streaming straight down, Roka had managed to form the water something resembling a shallow slope. It would have to do, especially with the light fading quickly and time running out. Roka grabbed the next thing the pile and leapt back into the water.
The wood was easy to work with. He could slot it into place or break it until it fit and moved the water in a way he wanted. As he moved up the levels of rock beneath the water, inserting the materials he’d collected as he could, Roka spared a thought for leaping out to freedom. Tugging the shield into place with his teeth until the water sloped down to his right to follow the path he’d already mapped out for it below with various other items, Roka realized just how close he was to the top of the waterfall.
Excitement getting the better of him for having made it so far, the male jumped off his unsteady perch and reached out for something to grab. He missed and plummeted back into the pool, tired limbs fighting off the current’s pull. He chose not to let the disappointment suffocate him and glanced up at his handiwork.
He’d made an absolute mess of the waterfall, but he hadn’t thought it pretty to begin with and that wasn’t really what he was going for right now. The light vanished just as the snow started pouring down in thick icy clumps. Roka rushed back toward his material pile, burrowing beneath the remaining bits of wood and other objects to protect himself from the coming frost. He curled his soaking wet body into a ball beneath a couple ragged lengths of fabric and waited for morning to come.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Roka’s body ached when he came to, and he struggled to open his eyes. His breath came out in gasps and his body was flooded with sickly warmth. He shuddered his way from out beneath his shelter, pressing through a pile of snow. Before him, the waterfall was frozen over and glee washed over the male. Stepping forward on shaky limbs, Roka nodded proudly to himself.
The water he’d carefully diverted had formed into a rough slope, something the kalon could more easily manage to climb than the rock wall behind it. Roka scampered over ice formation, sliding rather ungracefully across the frozen over pool. A very small layer of snow sat atop the ice and offered little in the way of traction, but it was enough for Roka as he started his slow ascent.
As he reached the top, Roka looked back down into the pit and smiled. He could a fever burning in lungs and his whole body wanted to collapse, but at least he was out and finally freed. Roka couldn’t help but feel a little bit proud that he’d bested fate and could live to tell the tale of when nature had tried to trap him in a pit for the rest of winter.