The people of Asterleeds have long grown used to carefully folding themselves into masks with four perfect corners, always checking their surroundings to make sure nothing slips, no flaw shows. Only in private do they raise their cups, take a deep breath, and shed their masks in laughter among friends.

By contrast, the people of the Kanamia Tribe express themselves freely, without hesitation. Nothing shows this better than the Kanamian Caprahorn Races.

To me, it was the wildest, most exhilarating festival I've ever witnessed.
The tribesfolk lead out their strongest adult Caprahorns, and eager contestants, young and old, gather with shining eyes. The moment they loop a rope over the goat's horns, the race begins. Each participant must tame their goat in their own way and ride it all the way to the finish line. Mud flies. Dust clouds rise. Those who can't hold on are tossed face-first into the dirt. But what greets them isn't laughter. It's applause.
To the Kanamians, simply taking part is something to be proud of. Riding a goat is more than a challenge-it's a way to honor the will of their ancestors.