The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively-

The rolling meadows of Pegasus stretched out before them. It was the longest room in the cave by far, and fairly regularly, Aethril stopped by to practice her own magic on the hills here. If you were to ask her, it was too pretty and orderly for what was meant to be a wild plain in a network sewn from chaos itself.

Getting past the guard out of Draco was easy enough. Leaving would always be easier than entering, of course-- but she had expected some mild resistance when she came clicking out of Draco with a freshly-hatched creation by her side. Still, better it was simple.

Aethril walked until they were properly out of the treeline and in the vast expanse of plains, ridged with sweetgrass and wildflowers. In the distance there were cave deer huddled in herds, picking lazily at dandelions by their feet. Spring was in full swing here, she'd realized-- trees were full of blossoms, daffodils swung in a draft. If they were on the surface, Aethril would have expected to see fawns prancing.

Alas.

"Those are deer," Aethril said. "They are food, but they have to be brought down and killed. There are smaller things, if you can find them-- if the deer are too intimidating," her eyes flashed over Chaos-Eleven, testing, "they are called rabbits. They are much faster, however."

"I will stay here. I'll be interested to see what you can do."

The Meadow Deer of Pegasus were more accurately bison. Or moose. Or some ungodly mixture of the two. When the giant, dark-hued, orange-streaked creature began to creep up through the waving green grass (a distinctly different aesthetic), the herd began to alert.

Snorts, as seven-foot mounts of antler-topped muscle turned toward the unnamed Valkhound. A few began to close ranks, mist rising from their nostrils against a cool patch of air they were standing in, where it pooled in a broad depression. The mist caught in the orb-light, looking for a moment like the adults were breathing flame.

A few calves trotted closer to the herd, moving to hide behind the adults, at the sound of the alarm snorts.

The herd was slowly closing ranks.

"Very good," Aethril said; and she at least meant it. It was very good that Chaos-Eleven was going to try the deer (moose-bison). It was more entertaining that way. She stood where she could see the streaks of black-and-orange approaching the herd.

And the herd began to close in, though some turned and snorted in the direction of the new Valkhound. It was around then that a new, exciting thought occured to Aethril: Would Vargas Fucking Kill Me If I Got His New Creation Murdered Within An Hour?

The answer was no, probably not-- but probably was something Aethril didn't entirely want to account for.

If those things tried to run the Valkhound over, Aethril would help-- but only before it looked like the creature was about to get shoved into its chrysalis, or worse. It's certainly not what friends would do. Merely someone trying not to destroy the morale of the workplace.

Besides. Maybe the Valkhound would surprise her.

The panic was real. The Valkhound tearing for them, fearless, was enough to make the smallest among them--the calves--break and run. They trusted the adults before them to hold the line, but... they didn't.

The adults, instead, panicked upon seeing their calves flee behind them (their wide-set eyes allowed for this), and turned, bellowing and snorting. The steam of their breaths and the dust around their hooves filled the air, and suddenly V-Chaos-Eleven would find herself competing with the adult Meadow Deer in a horrific game of "who will reach the babies first?"

Of course, there was also the option of launching for one of the adults at the rear, now that their backs were briefly turned, rather than diving past them and putting herself in front of their horns and hooves.

Ahh, a tactical decision for a creature mere hours old.

Off she went.

Aethril moved only to keep Chaos-Eleven and the herd in her line of sight; a brisk walk soon turned to Aethril taking off her heels and lightly jogging far behind the throng of Gembound as they careened through Pegasus.

And God. Was she unfit. There had been a few too many days lazing around the palace for the Valkhand to start jogging with any real efficency. This was a terrible idea, she thought-- and it was, until she paused (panting) and realized that Chaos-Eleven was participating in one of Aethril's all-time favourite games.

Orphan-creating or child-killing?

Oh yeah. This would be worth it, just to see what Eleven would choose.

The thunder of the hoofbeats and the dust of the meadow roiled all around V-Chaos-Eleven. When the Valkhound leapt, and missed, the creature she'd aimed for turned in a spray of dirt, head dropping low. An instant later it flung that head upward, aiming to snag them against its opponent and... impale? Throw? It wasn't clear; most likely she wasn't quite small enough for it to really throw, at least not far. And the thrust it offered wasn't really enough to do damage, even if it hit--not this time. But the beast itself was large enough--towering double her height... Maybe it hadn't been the best of choices for a target.

Things were going catawampus pretty quick.

Aethril paused in the meadow, but for the time being, she did nothing. This was a test, after all-- and though she would interfere before Chaos-Eleven got her ass ripped out and handed back to her, the Valkhand had to give her a chance to try to adapt and survive.

So, you know.

For now, Aethril just watched with a vague sense of bracing, like how you might watch a plane begin to smoke and point down towards the ground.