•Sad Golem•

Jungle

Golem, tormented by the children's laughter, or the memory of it rather, bouncing around in his mind, took each step of escape with caution. "Don't attract strangers who want to see your real face and find you're a golem, don't get attention from merchants, and don't ever, ever, ever talk to guards. Guards will not let me past the gate." Golem's mind was talking to itself at this point, reminding him every step of the way, the rules of escape. Golem stuck mostly to alleyways and back-way passages until he came across one large obstacle— a guard in the gate with a helmet and an axe.

The Missing Gear was a tool of social acceptance to Golem. He saw it meaningless before, because he thought someday he's earn it himself, but the organ became his only goal once he saw it impossible to live without. This was an importance he saw immeasurable at this point.

Golem looked around behind the merchant shops and decided he'd use the wooden crates to get over the wall. He used the first crate, revealed without a top, and used it as the base for another crate he'd heaved on top of it. He slides one last crate into place at the base of the other two, and he climbed on to them to reach the top of the wall.

He climbed down the outer edge of the wall so he was only dangling by his hands when suddenly, out of the bushes, a small snake frightened Golem, causing him to gasp and fall unreadily. The snake scurried off, but when Golem got up, he found the attention of the gate guard. "Hey, kid! What're you doing? You can't leave without an adult! Come back here, please!"

Sad Golem couldn't go home again, not that it was a far way he'd come, but after being brought back by guard— no other shame could be quite as bad as that— not without the additional baggage of having a cuff over his mouth. Golem shrieked though his restraint and ran into the woods, following down a slippery slide of dirt— dryer than mud, but one steep slope nonetheless, down through the forest grounds. Many signs and buildings were still just outside the town, and many people still considered this place part of Finiss, but once you were at the gate, the guard checked you in and checked you out.

Golem kept sliding, whizzing past buildings on either side of him, watching his descent become steeper and steeper, faster and faster, and when he'd finally escaped the guard, when he'd finally made it past the trees and scrubs, he looked toward his left—.

The most beautiful thing Golem had ever seen. His heart, the biologically integrated pounding he felt in his chest at this moment, it was rising, and breathing was uncontrollable, in part by his fast escape from copious shame, and quick descent into certain death— and the largest, most glorious waterfall he could ever have dreamt of. "This... this is what I want" he thought to himself.

Still, his short peek at the beauty of the outside world had to come to an end. He saw what doom he had led himself into— a dark hole where the scrubs and trees separated, where the gravity of everything sucked him right into it. Welcome to the jungle, Golem.

Golem was tossed upwards a slight bit, the friction began to finally catch up, but his landing was still hard. He gathered himself and looked around at the dark, dank forest he'd been thrust into. A large putrid leaf that promised nothing more than what the town could only try to prevent from being the official code there, "No Rules".

Golem, you're in the big bad world now, and if you don't step up your game, you'll find trouble coming to bite your face off.

Golem had travelled far in the last few hours. While he had lungs, it only acted as a cooling system, which he didn't care much about since his current situation is in a cool, wet, jungle. His current concern is that without water, he can't keep his cells charged— he needed a liquid conductor for his tank.

Golem had been exhausted. His batteries were low, and he needed a sunny area for a slow boost, or his dihydrogen monoxide for a savior— neither of which he could find. His boots were muddy and gross from the tread, but his perseverance drove him on. He'd stumbled, and tripped over the weight of his own feet, which he carelessly allowed to guide him down a small cliff to some sort of pond, the aftermath of the large waterfall overtop this one.