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Frost's small tail wiggled, though it was not like his normal tail wags. Normal wags were from happy, good feelings, these wags were involuntary, cautionary. Altogether motions that left the ghost feeling a bit out of place in the small form.

"Signs of civilization often lead to local populations. If they be harmful or aggressive remains to be-" The suddenly over excitable bunny sniffing at him had Frost leaning back on his hindquarters, not feeling comfortable being sniffed so closely.

Again, normally he'd have no issue, but now he was stuck in the form of a common prey animal. A food creature. Prey was prey and his mind was not enjoying that fact in how he couldn't shift at all. "ER yes, hello. As I was-"


Of course, then a small chick walked by, deeming them weird.

Frost wasn't sure why but thumping his back paws on the ground seemed to be a good way to express himself.
"There is nothing wrong with being weird. Not everyone is the same you know."

Turning to the others gathered, Frost ran paws over his ears. "I say we go towards the city if it is that. We can ascertain just why we've come here perhaps. And no- field trips typically are a bit more.. organized. It's illegal without a passport much less a supervisor for us to be here if I recall correctly."

"Too late."

A large group of hares, bouncing forward with carrots aimed suspiciously at the group that still remained on the outskirts, had indeed noticed.

"We know you're spies! Come with us. Don't make us egg you, we'll do it!!"

(Rerolling...)

Frost actually saw the carrot wielding hares as a rather.. welcomed thing. Officers of this world? Figures of authority? Yes, please.
"Rather not spies officers. Students. Our teacher sent us here we think but uh... we don't seem to be in the right forms of our normal selves... nor, do we have our passports." Frost cleaned his other ear before bowing to them both.

"I think she might have sent us here to learn of Easter- but... I am terribly sorry. We are not quite sure how we got here or why we have then these uh..shapes. Would you mind showing us perhaps, to a portal back to halloween? Or if there is an embassy, take us to it?" He bowed again to them. His elders had always taught him that respect given was a step towards respect earned.

He looked at his fellow classmates. Attempting to lie in the ghost's mind was just a way to increase any punishment that might be doled out. Honesty was the best policy. "We are very much, more than lost." He spoke, ears flopping sadly to the side of his head.

The strange creatures wielding their carrots made Harrow freeze, beak open just a hair like he was considering saying something but thought better of it at the last second. Instead he stared at them, impossibly still, only his feathers quivering nervously, until Frost talked them into lowering their makeshift-weapons. Then his beak opened and closed a couple times and, with a squeak, he kicked into motion again as they guided the group away.

Still facing backwards, he finally found his voice, sticking in his throat and stuttering off his tongue, "W-what do you do w-with little lost sheep...?"

"Naaah, nothing bad at all."

The hare grinned, showing an impressive set of square teeth. "For us."

The entire squadron cackled with delight, as they started shoving the group into the forest, keeping them together. Unfortunately, they never made it any far.

"Sir, one of them just dropped."

The squadron of hares stopped their march to turn and look at Camilla, face down on the ground. She was unconscious.

"Sir!"

Harrow fell soon after.

"They're all passing out, do you think this is a trick?" "This won't work on us, kids, we'll boot you out even if we have to drag you - sir, they're all falling! Sir! What do we do! SIR!"

One by one, each of you fall. The world begins to swim and swirl into a mass of colors, until finally, you hear a loud, throbbing sound, and the world goes black.

Frost was all good cheer and easy-going self-confidence, but Harrow was an entirely different story: used to bullies who grinned at him easily even as they plotted ways to poke and prod, he eyed the crew with an uncertain sort of look, like he was just waiting for the other boot to fall. All in all, he thought, it was better to expect the worst from people and be ready when things went horribly wrong. It took away the sting of disappointment. Usually. Sometimes it meant missed opportunities, but this time around --

He had definitely been right to worry. Something about the way the creatures talked to each other, and the tone of their laughter, was all too familiar. Helplessly, Harrow struggled to flap his wings, to get off of the ground and away, to escape from what was certain to be bodily harm. It was no use, though: chicks, cute as they were, completely lacked the capacity to fly. Their downy wings were decoration.

He got two hops into the air before he started to feel drowsy, uncertain, his head swimming. He landed back on the ground hard, tumbling over even as he did, the world melting away into a resounding thrum....