Creighton fumbled with the bag of trail mix before excitedly tearing it open, shoving the entirety of the bag's contents down his mug. With a satisfied sounding gulp, and a wipe of his mouth on his sleeve, Creighton grinned and donned his coat once more, the rats on his back had eyes that gleamed with renewed vigor. Food was good...and a fed Sacred Gear was always good. Quickly dashing out of the house, Creighton was surrounded in a cacophony of squeaks and scrapping sounds as he fucking booked it, running so furiously that a few rats flew off his back and hit the ground, scrambling back up on their feet to rejoin with the rest of the coat. Creighton might have been weak, but he was beyond eager to train, even willing to push himself enough to sprint the whole way to the cliff, not even noticing Moena above. [b]"Time to get back into shape!"[/b] he cackled as his rats behind him ran as fast as their pattering, tiny paws could.

Eventually they'd catch up, and cling to his pant's legs as well as the hem of his long coat, a few descending down his back to help the stragglers up. It was evident that Creighton was fairly fast, but he did accidentally stumble a few times while making turns at high speeds, showing a definitive lack of self-control. Eventually, he did slow his pace up a bit, evidently realizing going full blast wasn't the best idea, but had went a decent ways before slowing down. 

Upon reaching the cliffs, Creighton looked up and took a deep breath before shifting into his rat form and running up the steep face, his paws deftly finding the holes he needed to put them into, and ascending rather quickly. Rats clung to his back as he rose up, mostly cheering him on. It wouldn't take him very long to get to the others, but he would feel somewhat drained from the climbing.