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Name: Leven

Round 1 FAILURE
Round 2 SUCCESS
Round 3 FAILURE

Three squirrels in bone mask drag you down a gravel rough riverbank to to a still pool's edge. Without any further words your head is forced down under the water, a bleak end to such a dogged tail.

You think you might be done for, your vision going fuzzy as you run out of breath.. when suddenly and without warning you are pulled from the water. The squirrel that had been holding you down having gotten bowled over by the creature from before, who had apparently gotten loose and in turn has come to save your furry behind. Better get running!

---

Leven moaned as the squirrels hauled him closer to the water's edge and then he had no time for anything to be said as his head was unceremoniously shoved under the water. The hare thrashed about, but the squirrels had a good hold on him. His movements became weaker and weaker as his body begged for air.

Suddenly, he was pulled out and his lungs filled with sweet, sweet fresh air. He whirled, ready to take on the squirrels, only to find them laid out cold on the bank. "I say..." The hare spotted his hero and grinned. "Good job, what?" He stuck a paw out for the mouse to shake, opening his mouth once again to introduce himself.

Noise from behind them interrupted their meeting and the mouse grabbed Leven's paw and took off. "Good idea!" The hare commented as he ran along after the mouse. Introductions could wait until after they'd gotten away from the crazy squirrels!

Fauna
Round One: Success
Round Two: Failure
Round Three: Failure

The beast is after you, her jaws spread wide as squirrels cheer on her chase in the distance. Only narrowly managing to dodge her snapping maw it becomes clear that she's toying with you, her horrible laugh haunting your retreat ad you come across a rocky outcropping atop the hillside.

There's plenty of crags, some you might fit into even, but if she couldn't reach you her guard would eventually. Beyond the outcropping a steep drop would see you hundreds of feet into a stony valley. It might be best to watch your step should you remain here...

---

Panic, Panic! All Fauna could think of was getting away, staying alive. Skidding on the rocks and dirt as she scurried, she grabbed on to the nearest root or shrub to keep from skidding backwards. Eventually pulling herself to the top, she quickly scanned her surroundings. Those squirrels probably knew this area better than she, but she was far tinier. Squeezing into one of the many crags, she continued to scurry, staying out of sight. They may be small and know the area, but she was smaller and had far better vision. She decided to hunker down until dark, then make a break for it.

Perion
Round One: Success
Round Two: Failure
Round Three: Failure

The beast is after you, her jaws spread wide as squirrels cheer on her chase in the distance. Only narrowly managing to dodge her snapping maw it becomes clear that she's toying with you, her horrible laugh haunting your retreat ad you come across a rocky outcropping atop the hillside.

There's plenty of crags, some you might fit into even, but if she couldn't reach you her guard would eventually. Beyond the outcropping a steep drop would see you hundreds of feet into a stony valley. It might be best to watch your step should you remain here...

---

Battered and Bruised, but not going down easily. Perion bounded up the hillside, teetering on the edge for a moment. I’m not letting that Wolf have me, and I’ll be damned if I let those squirrels get the better of me again. He had two roads away from them, and neither was all that appealing. Still, it was better then turning back. With a deep breath, he centered himself, then took a leap. He went tumbling down amongst the crags and outcroppings, bashing and bumping as he went. The pain was excruciating, but he managed to keep from screaming…too loudly anyways. Landing at the bottom he felt as though he may be dead, and so did the squirrels looking over the edge at him as he lay there limply. “Oh forget him!” they eventually said and went back inside. After what seemed to be a lifetime, Perion got up onto his wobbly limbs and began to limp away in what he hoped was the direction of Hallowmarl.

Reina
Round One: Success
Round Two: Success
Round Three: Critical Success

Another look and you realize your pursuer, a wolf. She bares her teeth at you and yelps angrily. "Cursed beast! You dare toy with my pawns? Make a fool out of me? I've had beasts for supper twice your size!" She'd snap and scrape at the foot of your ascent, unable to climb up to your perch- only to be pelted with a barrage of nuts and stones from the trees around you.

Squirrels. Tens of them. "Pawns?! Stupid, fat old wolf, we don't need your protection!" "You're like a mangey ol' leech, eattin' us when we don't feed you yer supper'" "Get off ta the Dead Wood with ya!" Seems rather than accept the fate of having another one of their leaders eaten, your escape has spurned a bit of a revolution. They trade venom as you're left there watching the wolf creep backwards near the cliff side.

What's a beast to do?

---

“I didn’t toy with anyone!” She called from the tree, “Do not blame me!” She should have run away right then, but the charitable side to her personality prevented her from abandoning the squirrels. After all, they had helped her. No, she would stay there until she knew they were all safe from the wolf. The squirrels continued to pelt the wolf with rocks and nuts and anything they could find, forcing her closer and closer to the cliffs edge. One second she was fine, the next she was tumbling away down the steep cliff. Reina winced and turned away, saying a quick prayer for the poor pathetic beast…and then she moved as fast as her body could take her, leaping from tree to tree as she escaped the danger zone.

Skark
Round 1 FAILURE
Round 2 SUCCESS
Round 3 SUCCESS

Lo and behold! A raft! A bound together craft of sticks and string rests upon the shore, an escape surely if only you (and anyone who might have joined you) can avoid prying eyes... like those peering out a hole up above. Will there never be an end to these squirrel bastards? Time for a quick escape!

Roll: 1..plus 3 bonus for saving the critter? :'3

The sudden sound of angry chattering behind them told Skark that he didn't really have the time to rest. He hopped forward quickly when the sound reached his ears, and the little sparrow followed right behind him, not having to be told. His shining black eyes scanned the river before them and quickly fell upon the raft. It seemed almost too perfect, as if it were a trap, but his wings and body ached. It would be good to float down away from these horrid rodents before he had to fly anywhere again. Taking another quick glance upwards, he suddenly recognized the place even better. Yes, he'd been in the area that night, before they had kidnapped him. At least it'd be relatively easy to find his way back to Fangroot. Boy, if anyone ever found out that he had been kidnapped by tree-leapers, he'd never live it down, even if he -had- set quite a few on fire.

He hopped down to the river side, and dragged the raft to the water with the help of his tiny brown companion, who was oddly silent. She was just as focused as getting away as he was, really, and soon, they were both on the raft, in the water, speeding away on the current. With no time to spare either, as several enraged, singed up squirrels poured out from the hole of the big burrow, screaming and cursing. He snorted, and settled down on the damp floor of the primitively constructed craft to catch his breath. "Watch our back. Make sure zhey do not follow." he said in his dark voice, giving the sparrow the eye. She blinked nervously, and turned to watch their back, while he kept watch on where they were headed.

Skark almost expected something else horrible to happen, for something to be waiting for them downstream...but nothing came, and after a while, he started to relax. This had been one of the most harrowing ordeals he'd lived through in some time, and he'd lost his favorite shawl out of it. It angered him a great deal, but he'd just have to find the mouse who'd done it before and have her sew another clasp on a different piece of fabric. There was no way he would ever get his old one from the squirrels. He heaved a sigh, and then glanced back to the sparrow, who was still doing what he'd told her to do, though she looked very tired. He was hit with the sudden strong temptation to take her life and make a meal out of her, but he decided not to after a moment, narrowing his eyes. It would take more effort than it was worth to get the body somewhere where he could eat it in safety. No, he'd let this one go, even if she hadn't been particularly useful.

"Thank you, sir. For cutting me loose. I'd have died, for sure." she finally said in a very soft voice. He sneered to himself, and looked back at her with a grim light in his eyes.

"Have to be careful in the future. Something vorse vill get you, next time." he inwardly relished the fearful look that came to the sparrow's eyes, and then stood, stretching his sore, but not unusable, wings. "I am leaving now. Farevell, little one." he said, and took off from the boat, leaving the little sparrow to her own fate. As he sped upwards and above the treeline, he breathed a true sigh of relief, knowing that no one could touch him up in the sky.

Round 1 SUCCESS
Round 2 FAILURE
Round 3 SUCCESS

Your flight down the hill is one dogged by wolf and squirrel alike, their jeers drown out by the deafening thump of your racing heart. Downhill there rushes a stream, it's pace fast and it's body wide, and you'll have to slow down or else you'll end up barreling right into it.

If you slow down, however, you're sure to have at least a dozen of those furry little bastards on you in seconds.

Time for a daring get away plan!


Hold for Haile - will type up... sometime tonight!!


Haile didn’t dare look over his shoulder. Why bother, when he knew what was there? He could hear the angry chatter of squirrels, the raucous snarling of Ferrah, and above all, the thunder of scores of paws as they tore after him the way comets cut sluices through the sky. He knew well enough that the thorns had only been so effective, and that he had angered the magnificent creature to a point considered suicide to most; and, should he let up even the slightest, he would quickly be taken into her snapping jaws and swallowed in as few as six good bites.

Maybe five.

Either way, he knew he needed to keep running. His head start was only marginal, and any hesitation - or trip-up, or stumble - would cost him his life. Never before had Haile run quite so fast, body seething with adrenaline that all but killed any pain he should have been feeling, head down and claws digging into earthen ground; but he couldn’t keep up the pace, not forever. He needed an escape, some sort of distraction or aid, something that would slow down the army at his tail… or perhaps something that would speed up his escape, either would work well. He needed… he needed…

A stream! Oh, Thank Tree, what a beautiful sight! His bleary, tear-stung eyes made it out as a hissing blue streak not so far ahead, and crying out, he urged his aching limbs faster. It was a mighty thing, and it was coming quickly, rushing toward him even as the sound of the advancing army clashed louder and louder behind; he needed a quick plan, automatically noting speed and distance, gauging depth and visibility, more than pleased to see it was a less-than-clean specimen and only marginally saddened to see it was far too wide for him to leap with only three working limbs. But there were rushes and reeds decorating the sudden slip of land that led to its burbling waters, and quite sure what to do, Haile dived. He took hold of a reed, pressing it into his palm as his body hit rushing river with a colossal SPLASH…

The water was dark, cold, and brutal; it was alive with bits of bracken, leaves and dirt, and it pummeled the little fox as he snapped the reed from its roots. He was pushed to the bottom, where his shoulders kicked up mud and debris, madly chewing at the reed and limiting the rush of bubbles that tried to creep through his nostrils. His eyes burned, and he could not see. His lungs ached, and he knew he couldn’t hold his breath forever. But he nearly had it, he was nearly through -

The squirrels crowded along the stream’s banks, watching the turpid water with confusion plastered on their faces. The great black wolf, snarling and dripping slather, paced about, shouting, ”WHERE IS HE? WHERE DID THAT FORSAKEN BEAST GO? YOU ALL HAD BETTER FIND HIM! I PROMISE A THOUSAND PAINS IF YOU DO NOT…!”

Like good little cronies, they began the most thorough search that a hoarde of squirrels can perform. Many of them ran the length of the stream, watching the twisting waters. Others tried to swim across, but found that the current was a bit too much, and could be counted as dead and drowned further down the stream, where their bodies caught in roots and branches of floating trees. They could search as long as they wanted, but never would they find the fox where he had managed to hide.

His tail had saved him, primarily; loose and ragged as it was, it had tangled in a set of rushes on the opposite shore some few meters from where he had fallen in. he twisted himself into them further, down amongst their roots, and with his chewed reed, he had created a breathing tube. He was right underneath their noses, eyes squeezed shut and body frozen as he did his best to avoid their eyes, waiting with the patience of the stars themselves until the sound of their searching became faded and distant. They would search down to where the stream met the bigger river, and in the opposite direction if they pleased, but they would never find Haile the fox.

He could wait. He had time.

BANJORIE

1: Critical Success
2: Marginal Failure
3: Critical Failure

-----

Her breath came quickly, labored and harsh from a mixture of exertion and pain as she pushed herself at what was, for her, a break-neck speed. Her back paws hit the ground ahead of her front paws repeatedly as she listened to the mocking laughter of the wolf, who was taking her time in pursuit.

However, unlike many, Banjorie felt her heart lighten at the side of the ridge, the rocks and steep climb. She was made for this. Snow, ice, mountains, insurmountable peaks, all of those were accessible to the wolverine-- and not the wolf.

A leap, and she found herself atop a rock, only a brief glance down to the stony valley. She no longer felt any fear, and it was clear in the grin she shot a now irritated wolf, who struggled on slipping stones and gravel to catch up.

"BANJORIE," she shouted to Ferrah, her smile as wolfish as the one she aimed it at. "There is my name, beast."

A short bark of wheezing laughter, as she watched the wolf snap her teeth in the air, finally beginning to traverse the final length. A shake of her heavy coat, and Banjorie went for it, down the side of the hill for the valley below.

Tucking her body as she began to roll at a rapid pace, she smiled to herself, a rumbly sort of growl vibrating her chest nearly as much as the stones she struck.

Soon, she would return, and she would eat Ferrah, and feast upon the flesh of her 'pets'.