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About the millisecond after returning from the trip to the Obelisk, Jester had remembered that the leaders of their trip had been a part of the Royal Rainbow Troupe, a group of entertainers here in the swamp. Since he'd lost sight of his family, and which was mostly okay, he knew they'd be fine on their own, he'd concluded he needed to find his own place in the land. He stretched and asked questions until he found the general direction in which to travel, and set out, hoping that his bad jokes and puns, and generally weird ability to bend in uncomfortable ways would impress at least to some degree, for the possibility of acceptance.

The acha buck strode up with his head held high, and with a swagger in his step. Surely he could do it... right? It was just as common as any other act of entertainment he'd done thus far. A whole life in the past training and playing for those around him as a foal. It couldn't be too hard now, could it? He shook himself loose, fluffed out his fur, and put up the familiar mental block to fear in regards to crowds. When he was sure he was ready, he strode into the Royal Rainbow Troupe's territory, seeking out Prize. Someone had told him that this was the doe he needed to talk to in order to impress and join, not the kiokote doe, Tender or her mother, Red-Stained Blossom, or even the kiokote buck who had been along on the trip, Watch Me. He sucked in some air, puffed up his cheeks, and blew it out slowly, walking as confidently as he could, the quiet, hollow rattling in his horns the only sound aside from snapping twigs in the swamp.

"Hello there! Is this the Royal Rainbow Troupe? I'm uh... I'm looking for a doe named Prize. Has anyone seen her?" He stumbled partway through, and felt himself trip on a rock under his feet, hearing a slight bit of snickering around him as he did so. He grinned awkwardly and righted himself then, glad at least in some way that it had been funny.

Jester heard the doe speak, and then tilted his head. He could definitely tell this kin was her, especially in the authority she spoke in. Getting things done for large productions and shows was hard, and unless everything was perfect, the audience could always tell. His parents had kicked that into his head all his life. He smirked sheepishly and then pranced up, showing his best stance and holding his head high with the goofiest grin he could manage. It was really tricky to look the part, and still manage to hold grace and confidence at the same time.

"Why, hello there, miss. I heard your name is Prize, and if so, you're just the acha I've been looking for," He tipped his head side to side, and bowed, careful to keep the fuzz rings on his feet from the mud. "My name's Jester! I'm... a jester. I fear my mind wasn't entirely of the creative sort when it came to names. In any case, I'm hoping I could convince you to allow me into your lovely tribe," he added, and then arched his back, flinging his legs into the air almost like levitating them until his back feet touched the archs of his horns, and then went a step further by managing to stick hooves under them and out the other side, his tail only a foot from his face, and swinging gleefully. "I'm a contortionist, and I dance, and I'm good at sharp wit and joking insults, and I love puns. But I'm awful at jokes for some reason," he added. May as well get the ironic elephant out of the room.

He tilted his head, and widened his eyes. He unhooked his feet from his horns, his legs nearly like jelly, and then slowly righted himself. Was there anything else he was good at? There had to be. Prize was the perfect definition of a tough crowd, and if he couldn't crack her, then he couldn't crack an audience. Acha in the desert were far more prone to merrymaking and laughter, but the swamp was clearly a lot harder. Jester chewed on everything he was taught to do. The next bit he understood were puns and insults but that wasn't the wisest idea. He had to do something, in or not. His nature wouldn't allow him to simply give up at the opportunity to merely join, especially at mediocrity. Not with something he grew up with, that he was certain he had a place for.

That's when he had an idea. He smiled at her, and then backed up pretty far away before he started a fast dash toward the tree behind her. He bolted, managed to run up the side, did a backflip in midair, and then landed on the first thin branch below him, gracefully. He snapped off the small branch above him, and held it between his teeth for balance, strolling along the branch slowly before dropping down onto one of the thick hanging vines that stretched to the tree opposite, and began to march. It had been a long time since he'd done something similar to the high-vine, but he was sure he could pull it off. He used the stick for balance and watched his feet carefully to avoid tripping, and when he finally reached the low swinging part of the vine, did a side-flip back onto the swamp floor, tossing the stick in his mouth in the air, and then kicking it in the air so that it landed sharp side down into the mud. He landed next to it with a simple pose and grin.

"Also, I can do that..." he hoped with a ridiculous quirk of his neck.

Jester blinked and tilted his head at her. The itch to get under her skin was real... He resisted as best he could, but he was sure his eyes and his cheek-dimpling grin gave him away, at least a little. "But of course," he managed to sputter, ridiculously. "I can't very well give up, can I? Tough crowds do happen, sadly." What he said was true, but he still couldn't help but want to poke the bear at least once. Folks who were hard to make laugh made for good reactions. He bit a lip and waggled his eyebrows. "I mean unless you like me enough to have me follow you around, trying to impress you...?"

The look was plain on her face and once he'd gotten his mask he was pretty proud. He put it on and deigned to never take it off, as obnoxiously as he possibly could, and then skipped off around the grounds to meet everybody. Being annoying seemed to occasionally work, he smirked.