Gran was restless. Chachanji was off... wherever he went during the day, and the baby behemoth has holed up in their shared room at the Hourglass. He had already eaten the bowl of snacks that had been left for him, chased his tail for a bit, and rolled around on the Lalafell's bed. And now he was bored, and feeling a bit stifled. The room was definitely more spacious than that horrible tiny cage he used to be crammed into, but he was slowly developing that same closed-in feeling and it bothered the wee piglet.
Since he was uncertain of when Chachanji would be back to let him out, however, Gran made the obvious choice of letting himself out and getting some air. He snortled inquisitively to himself as he glanced about the room, seeking the best method of egress. The windows were an option, but they were shut tight to keep out the heat of the Thanalan day outside. He could totally just bash through them, but he still remembered how frightening that Lalafell lady out front had gotten when he had tried sharpening his horns on one of the Quicksand's table legs. Windows were definitely out.
The solution came to the baby behemoth like a bolt from the blue. Trotting over to the provided desk, he pressed his head against the leg of the companion piece chair and set about shoving it across the room. Any folks residing in the adjacent rooms were suddenly provided with the delightful sounds of wood squealing against stone as the piglet pushed the chair into position against the wall. Once that was accomplished, Gran scampered back a couple steps to admire his handiwork before moving to the next phase of his brilliant plan.
Hunkered down, rump in the air and tail whipping about excitedly, the baby behemoth gauged the distance between floor and chair seat. With a determined snort, the piglet leapt up and... halfway made it onto the chair. Scrabbling with his hind legs and making a series of nervous snorts and squeaks, Gran slowly hefted himself up onto the cushioned seat.
Step one: a rousing success! The little porcine fellow allowed himself a little circular victory dance before moving onto the next stage. Again he took that ready position - head down, hindquarters up - before pouncing from the chair towards his next target: the elusive doorknob. His forepaws latched onto the bulbous bronze-hued orb and scrambled for purchase, clawing desperately for a handhold while his hind limbs performed a similar spastic dance against the door itself.
With a sound not unlike a dog toy's squeak, Gran hit the floor. He bounced once, then lay flopped on the unfeeling stone with his little legs splayed in all directions. A sad little squeal, followed by a snort, and the baby behemoth was back on his feet again and eagerly examining the door. He snuffled around its base before noting that his flailings had pulled it open slightly. Padding at the small length protruding from the frame with his wee claws, the purple piglet eased the door open.
That difficult part done now, the little behemoth trotted his way proudly out of the room and down the hall towards the Quicksand proper. Getting in was simple a matter of scampering quickly after one of the other bipeds residing in the Hourglass before the door closed. A quick sneaky-sneak tip-toe past Momodi, followed by a repeat dash out the Quicksand door after one of its patrons, and Gran was out in the streets of Ul'dah.
The midday sun beat down on Gran's porcine form, and the sounds of hustle and bustle reached his flitting ears. The baby behemoth looked left, he looked right, and then he trotted off. Time to do some exploring!
